Infinite
by crimeofimagination
Summary: A collection of stories about Tremma with each chapter being a different scenario. Love can exist in any place, but it is infinite.
1. regret

**This is a story where each chapter is a different scenario unrelated to the next. These will be long chapters about Tremma, but hopefully they will fulfill their purpose of satisfying the audience. Enjoy, and please review, follow, and/or favorite.**

Scenario: Where a lack of money brings two people together.

Summer in California was known as fun, not too hot, and the ideal destination to visit for remarkable memories. To Troy Burrows, it was his own Hell. He enjoyed the cold even more in the summer because the familiar chill reminded him of his fortunate life back in Minnesota before he left. The long-lasting heat left a bad taste in his mouth and a snarl on his pouty lips.

He left Minnesota four years before, fresh out of college and broke, but his dreams made up for the money he lacked. It was all about casinos, girls, and leaving when it was time to let go of the fun. He was never one to regret because regret led to making the mistake of attempting to fix what was meant to be. If the cops got on his case for cheating during a game at the casino, he left. If he was caught with another guy's girl, he left.

It was always about leaving, and that was what he was doing at that moment.

His red convertible zoomed down a vacant highway in the middle of a desert, the only comfort being the breeze forming as a result of moving down the road. If he stopped, he'd be taken over by regret and heat.

But his gas tank was empty.

So Troy Burrows stopped at the gas station and went inside the convenience store with the broken sign and dusty windows. Old fans spinning loudly were the only noise save for the old television sitting on the counter. A girl looking not even one or two years younger than him leaned against the counter, obnoxiously chewing gum and reading a book. He cleared his throat loud enough for her to look up over the book that seemed to capture all of her attention.

"Oh! I'm sorry," she exclaimed, "What do you need?"

"Pack of cigarettes and a beer. And maybe the gum you're chewing," he smirked and winked at her.

She blushed and quickly spit out her chewed up bubble gum, being sure to look graceful all the while. He was definitely handsome, and she couldn't afford to embarrass herself even more than she already had.

"Can I please see your I.D.? For the beer," she almost whispered.

"I.D.? Babe, don't I look old enough to you?"

"Look, you seem like you're old enough; heck, even I'm old enough! But I need to see your I.D. just in case you're a high schooler who managed to have puberty bless him to become a Greek God so early."

She slapped her hands over her mouth at what she had just said, and Troy grinned so hard that it was hard for even him to not blush.

"Babe, you're gorgeous, too. Don't be embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed! Can I just see your I.D.?" she cried.

"Of course. Anything for you."

Showing his card, he took the beer, cigarettes, and a pack of what he assumed was her favorite brand of gum and went to his fueled car. Instead of heading to Arizona, he turned back to the city, looking for a motel to spend the night so he could visit her the next day.

The morning was cool since the sun hadn't risen yet. It wasn't too early, though. The girl would definitely be there at the store at this hour. Burrows took his keys, left $50 on the reception desk without anyone there, and left. There was a natural breeze that swept his brown hair backwards, and he parked at the store's entrance.

"Babe," he said breathlessly as he walked in. Upon seeing an old man at the counter wide saucer eyes at being called such a name, he groaned.

"Emma! There a movie star here for you!" the man yelled. The girl from the previous day walked out, her hair tied in a ponytail and doe eyes complimented with a quick dash of makeup.

"Come with me, Babe," Troy said to her. "Travel with me."

"You don't know me! What're you talking about?" Emma asked.

"You're beautiful, and I want you to come with me. Please, come with me."

Much to his surprise, she agreed.

"How long will we be gone?" she asked.

"Who knows," Troy asked.

"Good."

Half an hour later, Emma placed a suitcase in the backseat of his red convertible and hopped in the front seat.

"You live in the store?" he asked her, holding her hand.

"I have no family, the manager had a room in the back, and I have nothing here for me. I only work there so I can make up for living there."

"Did your family die?" he asked without any sensitivity in his tone. Emma didn't care.

"I don't know. I got lost and ended up here. That's my story."

She turned to him, brushing his hair. He told her about his adventures as a nomad with big aspirations. She giggled at some of his exaggerations, and the couple spent the rest of the day heading to Arizona on the money that Troy had stolen from the casino.

Night time hit the two, and Emma was fast asleep. Did Burrows regret bringing her? No.

Maybe stopping wouldn't lead to regret.

The car led them to a beaten down motel on the edge of Arizona. Troy woke Emma up and took them inside along with her suitcase. He didn't bring suitcases. Didn't need them. The night passed by slowly, a bed keeping the two bodies cuddled together in a warm embrace. There was nothing obscene. It was just their feelings holding them together.

Two years passed, and the money used to give them a hotel room that night grew to be enough to take care of them along with three kids. They lived in a trailer that was less than what they wanted, but as long as they were together, there were no regrets.

He would spend each day at a different casino while she spent the day working at a gas station. The kids were left to the neighbor who was luckily able to teach them for free. Some nights, Burrows would come home with no money and a beer with a piece of gum in his mouth. Other days, he would reward the family with his newly stolen money. Everything was blissful in their family.

Until there was a knock at the door one day.

Burrows finished his beer and chucked it in the trash before opening the door. He fixed his collared shirt and hair, and he told the kids to stay quiet.

"Can I help you, Officer?" he asked.

"Troy Burrows?"

"Yes?"

"You are under arrest for illegal gambling. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court."

Emma ran to the door, crying for the men to stop dragging him, but they wouldn't listen to her. Not after she begged them to leave him, not after he attempted to pull himself away, not after the children chased him.

He regretted staying in the trailer that night.

Unfortunately, the charges pressed against him involved him staying in prison for ten years. He wasn't one to be messed with, but he wouldn't attempt to escape prison. He earned a title there, though. Tough luck Troy. No one could beat him at a card game, hence the name.

When the family visited, it was tough for Emma. She cried, cursed, even explained how she was better off with someone, anyone else. Nevertheless, he never stopped listening to her crying for hours on end because he knew that she loved him more than anyone. He loved her, too. Like this, ten long years passed until it was only Emma visiting him. Two of the children had left for college, the third moving to a different city to pursue her acting career.

They wanted nothing to do with their parents.

Emma had to explain that to Troy one day. She sat down and sighed, picking up the black phone.

"Babe," he said, coughing for a minute before it went down to mild wheezing, "how are you?"

"I'm okay. I have something to tell you."

"Yeah?" he coughed three times more, feeling himself burning up and not because of the heat.

"Emily left for California. Said she wants to be an actress."

"Say it again?"

"Emily's gone. The kids left us, Troy."

"I have only two weeks left! Why did they have to leave before I came out?"

Emma sighed, "They don't want people to know that we're their parents, Love. I don't blame them. I'm a no good mother who's spent ten years waiting for her husband to leave jail so someone else can help pay the bills. College isn't free; I wouldn't know since I couldn't go."

Troy hung up the phone. He placed his head in his hands, rubbing the discomfort out of his worn out features before mouthing to her that he loved her and left.

She stood at the edge of a small bridge that overlooked the pond. She loved this bridge. It was the place where he asked her to marry him, where she told him they were having each of their babies, and where she would come whenever the beer in his hand turned into three. Today was the day that he was coming home.

Ten years without him had taken its toll on her. She missed him. His scent, his touch, his warmth, his comfort, him. She missed everything about him and hated herself for loving a man when she could do better. She never told him how she felt about finding someone else unless she was upset at him at the jail. And she instantly hated herself when she looked up from her crying and saw that he had a smile on his face telling her that he was sorry that he couldn't do enough to take care of her.

Her flip phone started to ring, causing her to jump at the loud intrusion upon her thought session. The cheapest phone she could find was a flip phone, but it worked wonders.

"Troy? Love?" she asked giddily.

"Mrs. Burrows?" someone else asked.

"Yes?" There was a pause.

"Your husband passed away this morning due to a serious staph infection. It seems he had this for over two months."

How ironic was this? The day she had been looking forward to for ten years was the same day that she was regretting waiting for ten years. Of any day, he chose to pass away that day. She didn't know what to say and hung up.

She had no one for her now. No family to take care of her when she was old and the cold nipped at her skin or the heat caused her to faint.

She had no family that she could rely on, and the feeling of loneliness hit her with a familiar wave of shock.

It was just like before the day that Troy had visited her at the gas station, and she regretted that he had stopped by.

 **This chapter saddens me, but not every one will end in a death. I just have had this prompt for a few weeks and decided to begin with this. Please do not hesitate to follow the story because this one ended sadly. I guarantee happy endings in the future.**


	2. agony

**Thank you for the support around the first chapter. This is a _long_ chapter. Be sure to check out my other stories. Enjoy.**

Scenario: Where a utopian society run on government power brings teenagers together. Based off _The Hunger Games_ by Suzanne Collins.

Emma walked down the stairs at the entrance of the high school and made her way home. She had to stay late that day to finish a project so she could prepare for a fancy dinner with Mia and Jane. Thankfully, her group members were flexible with their schedules in order to accommodate for hers, and the project looked up to her standards for one that was rushed on in three hours.

Throwing on her fake leather backpack, she paced herself in order to reach home as quickly as possible. She wasn't paying attention to what was in front of her because stepping on the colored tiles and avoiding the gray ones was occupying her imagination at that moment. She crashed into a red blob, grabbing hold of the object before she slipped.

"Watch where you're going," the object said.

She looked up, seeing a face that she'd noticed around the school a few times each week. Seeing him so near her sped her heart a bit, for he looked even better up close. Eyes wide, she straightened herself and apologized.

"I'm so sorry. It's probably just anxiety for tomorrow, I guess," she looked away, fiddling with her hands.

Groaning, he replied, "You need to chill. You're not gonna get picked. Just get over it."

She furrowed her eyebrows.

"You don't think there's even a possibility that either of us could get chosen?" she asked while he chuckled half-heartedly.

"I heard that they choose the weakest of the weak to play the game, so it's all staged. You and I are fine."

As he left without another word, she glared at his back. How could he be so insensitive to the fact that there were people younger than them with the possibility of being chosen, and he's laughing that they're probably going to get picked? She muttered to herself how foolish she was to even think that it was worth wasting her infatuation on him and headed home.

. . . . .

Emma woke up the next morning as she always did, slamming the alarm off and having to force herself off the bed. Her hair was a mess, and she only had twenty minutes to get ready before school. Today was an interesting day, for today was the day that the picking for the games would begin. The games lasted over three days, for there were 10 separate areas of the state to choose people from. Emma read a book somewhere called _The Hunger Games_ by Suzanne Collins. It was one of her favorites, and it captured her mind, making her think that her own government took inspiration from a book that was over 30 years old. She tied her hair into a braid and wore one of her favorite school uniforms. It was still ugly, but it was better than the choice of wearing khakis.

She finished putting on her stockings and plaid skirt and headed downstairs. Skipping breakfast, she immediately rushed to her parents and gave them a hug in case it was their last.

"Mom, Dad, I love you both," Emma rushed. "If anything happens, keep yourselves safe."

"Emma, doll," her father began, "Nothing's going to happen. We've been through this for the past three years. By now, you know that nothing will happen to you."

She nodded, but a tug at her heart gave her that creeping feeling that she was in for more than she could handle.

The auditorium was crowded, but her friends sat in the middle of the main bleachers. She took a spot in between Mia and Jayden, watching as the lights dimmed to black and a video began on the screen.

"Ten years ago, teen pregnancy rates were at an all time high. For every ten women, seven were pregnant. Then, we created the Games. As a result, the rate of pregnancy dropped to the lowest it's ever been. For this, we have the Games to thank. Today, two people in your district, one boy and one girl, will be chosen to represent a pregnant couple. They will be given two months in a forest to attempt and escape. If they find an escape to the hospital before the two month mark, they survive. Any couples after that will be given ten days to escape. For each couple after the first that escapes in ten days, the rest will have a day taken off their time until all couples have either escaped or died. If the one of the two people dies, the other will die. We hope that this serves as a lesson to teach you that pregnancy is not a joke.

"It is most likely that the girl and boy chosen will be from separate schools, so we doubt that you will know your partner. Today, we are choosing representatives from Area 10, the last area for choosing before the Games."

Emma gulped. _This is it. It's okay, Emma. You're not going to get chosen. There are thousands of other people who could be. Remember what everyone said,_ she thought.

"For the male representative," the voice read. People were holding their breaths everywhere. Silence. "Troy Jason Burrows of Harwood County High."

Emma felt tears well up in her eyes. She turned to her left and saw him walk down the steps of the bleachers, an expression on his face as if he hadn't just told her yesterday that there was no chance they would be picked. She faced forward and sighed, remembering that it was nearly impossible for two people of the same school to be chosen.

"For the female representative, oh wow. Emma Marie Goodall of Harwood County High."

Emma stood up, no feeling in her heart except confusion. The tears that threatened to spill did not come out. She couldn't hear the sound of Gia crying or the gasps around her. All she could see was Troy telling her that they wouldn't get chosen. She walked down the steps, taking the hand of a guard to help her walk outside to the car waiting for them. She slid inside the limousine and stayed silent.

She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking about her parents and their reaction to seeing her face on the television screen. A sob. They probably regretted having a child because of the pain that came with imagining her dead. Another tear. She wiped away her tears and took a deep breath. Emma looked up and saw Troy staring at her intensely.

"S-stop staring. It's all your fault," she whispered.

"How the hell is it my fault?" he answered lowly, being sure not to yell and grab the guard's attention.

"You told me yesterday we would be safe. Because of you, I told myself that I'd be okay. I lied to my parents this morning when I agreed that everything would be okay. It's not. I don't know what to do."

"Can you stop crying, please? It's not my fault that you let your guard down."

"It's not _my_ fault that you told me to!" she cried and tried to punch him, but he held her wrist. "I can't protect them. I can't take care of them now. They're going to grow old and wonder where I am to help them, but I'll be dead!"

The rest of the ride was silent as Troy did not comfort her on her last statement. He looked out the window, letting himself know that there was a chance that they would die.

. . . . .

The car parked in front of a large hotel near the capital of the area, and they were escorted to their room.

"Alright, my loves! How are you dears?" a man walked in and clapped his hands. He looked at Emma and frowned. "My darling, what's wrong? Don't cry, love. Tomorrow, we're going to make you look even more beautiful than you already are. First, let's show you around."

They were shown around the kitchen, bedrooms, living room, and balcony. A small home for them to temporarily stay until it was time for the Games. Saying goodbye, the man left the two alone. Emma looked to Troy, who gave her a small smile.

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

"Well, first I'd like to actually introduce myself since we've just been fighting," she smiled. "I'm Emma. And I'm a senior at Harwood."

"I know who you are, Emma. You and I have Biology together. I'm Troy, and I'm a senior."

She frowned at the fact that she'd never seen him in Biology until she realized that she sat in the front and was always late from Photography class.

"Can I get a hug?" she asked. He raised an eyebrow. "It's just to say sorry for being rude earlier."

He reluctantly agreed and scooped her up due to the height difference.

. . . . .

Emma couldn't sleep.

Sleeping wasn't an option when the thought of death occupied her thoughts. She sat up and threw on a robe. Opening the balcony, she took a seat and stared out at the black sky. Lights twinkled from every building in the city, even after midnight. Every room had a person with a different story. Hundreds of different stories for how they got there, what they were doing, why they were who they were. She just hoped that she would one day be able to tell hers.

"Hey," Troy sat down.

"Oh, hi."

She looked back ahead, feeling slightly amazed that they would coincidentally be awake at the same time. She dreamt back about how one of the stories of the people in the lit rooms was her parents. They wouldn't be sleeping right now. They'd be attempting to call her and tell her how much they loved her. She sighed sadly. She turned to Troy, and when he didn't seem to dislike her company, she rested her head on his shoulder.

"It starts today."

She closed her eyes, nodding at his statement.

"I don't want to go to the forest," she whispered. "When it starts, who knows how long until it ends."

"Why are you so bent on the fact that you're going to die?" he looked at her.

"Well, it's going to be tough to stay alive while trying to find you, so I'm definitely going to die right after it starts. And when I'm gone, you'll find someone else to be with and take care of her."

He turned so she lifted her head again, anger in his eyes.

"You realize how stupid you sound, don't you?" he asked. "We're together in this. It is my job to be yours and to protect you. I'll make sure that you're safe. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

She grinned, unable to stop the smile from spreading on her face.

"Don't ever doubt my loyalty to you. My sole purpose is to be there with you when it gets tough. I'm not going to take you for granted. They're going to stick something in you that simulates a child. I have to protect you and whatever the hell they stick in you."

She cringed at what he just said about the simulated child.

"How do you know all of this?" she asked.

"My friend was chosen the first year that he was eligible. He made it, but he died right after from cancer. He told me everything they do because he wanted to make sure that if it ever happened to me, I'd be able to protect my girl."

As if their exchanges could not get any more cheesy, she hugged him tightly, knowing that if she tried letting go, someone else could take him away.

. . . . .

Time flew by. It was time for the Games to begin. Emma took a sip of a liquid that would knock her unconscious, and she woke up ten seconds later on the grass in the middle of a forest. She knew not to move from the circle surrounding her until the alarm sounded or else she would die. The area she was in was vacant of human life as far as she could tell, so she feared for Troy's life. She longed for that night they spent together.

Her stomach felt weird after drinking that liquid. It must've been the simulation. She looked at the watch they gave her and remembered there was a way to send out her distress signal. She realized that anyone could see her signal if she issued one, so she had to hide in a bush and wait for him to send his signal. How did she know which one was his? She noticed her suit had red lining on it, so he probably had red lining on his, too. She opened her watch and saw for any distress signals. She could only see a white one coming from the center of the forest, probably being used as a way to mark how far away she was from the center.

Suddenly, she heard an alarm, and she knew it was time to hide. Her heart raced as she searched for a place to hide from sight, and she found a bush spotted with red berries. Knowing they weren't harmful berries because her mother was a botanist, she jumped inside and waited. Opening her watch, she counted five signlas coming from around her. Two orange, one yellow, one green, and one blue. She waited ten more seconds, and the second wave of signals came in.

She found no red.

Was she doing this properly? Was he signal even red? What if someone was trying to hurt him and his signal was actually blue, but she didn't know? What if he was dead?

The third wave of signals came in. No red. She decided it was best to wait for a few minutes in case people were coming her way.

She looked down and saw a red signal. Right next to the center. She gasped quietly, knowing that was her Troy waiting for her. He left the signal on for a few more seconds, not moving, and disappeared. She knew where he was, carefully got out of the bush, and ran.

A large thud shook her out of her running state. Someone was behind her in the trees. She ducked into a bush, hearing a shot. Footsteps approached her bush, and she held her breath. If they couldn't hear her, they'd think she was dead. Besides, she guaranteed that no one would want to touch a bush without knowing if it was poisonous or not, and she bet she had the greatest knowledge.

The footsteps left. How was it this easy? She relaxed, opening her watch and seeing a quick red signal. She sent out her own, waiting for his to move. It did. He was coming for her.

. . . . .

It had been thirty minutes, and she was still in the bush. She sent out a few signals, only one given a response. A tear blurred her vision. She was on television right now, the whole country watching her crying in a bush.

"Emma?" someone whispered.

She looked out through a crack and saw Troy standing, ready to fight. She took a second to swoon but finally got up. She held onto her gun in case someone was waiting for her. Why would they be waiting if they could shoot Troy? She shook her head and ran to him. He grinned boyishly and lifted her up.

"Emma," he sighed into her hair, "you're okay."

"Troy, we have to go. Somebody's here."

"I found a spot next to the center where there's water. Follow me."

Emma nodded and ran behind him. Suddenly, a boy jumped down from a tree, a gun pointing at Emma.

"Well, look what we have here," he said, "a woman. It's tough to find any girls here because they're all already dead."

Emma whimpered as Troy pulled out his gun.

"Leave her alone," he commanded.

The boy smiled and walked closer to Emma, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. His hand went down to her cheek, and she flinched away, grimacing.

"You are so beautiful," he said. She nearly gagged and ducked as she heard a gunshot, and the boy was dead.

She gasped and ran to Troy, and the two went to the pond.

. . . . .

Seeing the fresh water made Emma cry in joy, and she jumped in the water. It was so cold compared to the hot and humid weather.

"My makeup artist would probably kill me for washing off my makeup," she joked. Troy finished setting up a tent using the kit inside his bag. "Don't you want water?"

"Already have some in a bottle. How'd you know it was me sending the signal?"

"Our suits have red lining on them, so we're Team Red. I figured your signal would be red. How'd you know it was me?"

"Right after I sent the call, I saw only one person send a signal back. I figured if I sent it later than everyone else, no one except you would see it because they'd all find each other before that," Troy replied.

She grinned and started filling her bottle with water. She stopped when she saw something move from her peripheral vision. She turned and saw a girl walk up.

The girl was stunning compared to Emma. She made the female red feel insecure almost immediately.

"It looks like we have someone here already," the girl said, her voice causing Emma to shake of intimidation. "Damn, your guy's hot, Red."

Emma almost growled of possessiveness, causing the girl to laugh.

"Now, let's see. I don't have that much time before someone comes and tries to kill me, so let's get this over with," she said as she pulled out a sword.

Emma took out her gun, getting ready to shoot until she saw another person appear from the shadows. Was that, was that Jake Holling? He shot the girl, letting her body fall in front of the tent.

"Jake Holling?" Emma asked. Jake smiled and ran to her.

They hugged, Emma elated at the fact that her friend was here to support her.

"Look, Em, I have a group of people with me who are all injured. They're my friends, so they won't hurt you. I need to bring them here since there's water," Jake rambled.

Emma nodded, telling him to bring them as soon as he could, and he ran away to get the others.

Night time fell before he returned, and Troy was silent.

"Hey, are you okay?" Emma asked.

"Yeah," he grumbled.

"No, what's wrong?" she grabbed his hands before he could go in the tent.

"Who's the Jake guy?"

"Is my Troy... jealous?" she giggled.

"No, leave me alone," he muttered.

"You're definitely jealous, but don't worry," she hugged him. "He can't protect me like my hunky man can."

Troy chuckled, "Hunky? Are you high?"

She laughed and shook her head, leaving to go help the injured people coming in.

. . . . .

Days passed, and Emma got to know the friends that Jake brought. There were Jake and Gia from area 2, Jason from area 4 who couldn't find Kim, and Lauren and Antonio from area 9. Jason was suffering from a hit on the head that was causing him to hallucinate. They didn't know how to help him, so they had to let him count down his days.

One day, Jake was missing.

Emma woke up especially early that day to practice her knife throwing, and she noticed that Jake was gone from his watch post. She searched around, whispering his name, but he didn't respond. She decided to give him a few hours before she told the others when they woke up.

She was about to begin throwing knives when she saw a note on his post. She picked it up. It was a slip of paper with coordinates. She opened her watch, and instead of sending a signal, looked for the coordinates of the place on the slip. She woke up Troy, much to his discomfort and a lot of whining, but he went with her to the location. It was a small hill on the side of the cement pathway with a cage. The cage was empty and frankly starting to freak Emma out.

"Hey, look at this," Troy said while pointing to buttons. "What could this be?"

"I think it's for a code to unlock the cage. But there's no clue."

"Check the coordinates. Do you see anything?" Emma shook her head.

She did she a bit of shadow on the paper like there was a watermark.

"Wait, I see something."

She held the paper to the sun, and she found five letters.

Y

Emma entered the letters into the system, watching as a dog was lifted through a tube into the cage, and the cage itself unlocked.

"The dog's name must be Poppy. Wait, it has a collar," Troy said.

 _Poppy_  
 _If you are seeing this, I love you.  
Remember Us Now And Whenever Agony Yearns New Optimistic Wanderers. _

Emma reread the message until she realized, "Troy, this is from Jake. The dog is from Jake."

"How the hell did he get a dog here? And what the hell does that message mean? Agony Yearns New Outgoing Wanderers? This is bull," Troy cried.

"Why are the letters of that line capitalized, but the others aren't?" Emma asked. She looked at all of the first letters. "Oh my goodness."

 _RUN AWAY NOW_

Suddenly, Emma heard a ticking sound and turned to her left. The cage was operating a bomb, and they had to run immediately. Troy grabbed Poppy and sprinted to the pond, Emma leading the way. She pulled out her gun, attempting to shoot a guy a few feet away. He appeared unarmed, for he sprinted away just as she shot.

Troy grabbed Emma, letting go of Poppy, and they fell to the ground. He acted as a shield around her, and the last thing she saw was smoke everywhere, the sound of a bomb sending her to unconsciousness.

. . . . .

"How many weeks has it been, Troy?" someone asked. Emma opened her eyes, grabbing her forehead as the world spun for a few seconds.

"Four, five at the most. We have to start making progress. Travelling a mile every day isn't going to work. Oh, Emma," Troy sighed of relief.

Was she in his lap? She groaned, placing his hand over her face to attempt to cover her eyes from the light. She could practically feel him smiling.

"Emma, Jake is dead. We found his body floating at the shore of a lake nearby. The dog he gave us was apparently the one you wanted for your 15th birthday."

How did he know all of this? She sat up, confusedly looking at the golden retriever puppy sleeping next to her. It had a scratch from when Troy dropped it, but other than that, it seemed perfectly fine.

"You wanted a puppy?" Emma nodded in response.

She held Poppy in her arms, watching the puppy adjust to its new position. She looked up at Troy with a smile.

"He still remembered."

The afternoon went by like a bore. The only injured person was Emma, so Troy had to carry her since her foot was damaged.

"This is so boring," she whispered.

"Quiet, we're in enemy area," Jason said.

They travelled uphill, downstream, through a field of grass, and finally stopped at a clear patch of earth in the middle of trees.

"It seems suspicious that there's a perfect spot to stay," Jason remarked. Gia told him to stop complaining about what he was given when she was pausing from moping over Jake's death.

That night, Emma couldn't sleep. She was heartbroken that she wouldn't be able to say "thank you" to Jake, nevertheless say anything to him. Her "big brother" was gone, but he never stopped loving her. The fire was completely dead, so it was just her in the middle of the earth, waiting for her night watch to end. She heard the crunch of leaves from behind her.

"Who's there?"

Was that Jason?

"I know someone's there, and I'm going to kill you if you come near me or my friends!" Jason was looking right at her.

"Jason! It's me, Emma!"

"You killed Jake! You murderer! The real Emma would never hurt Jake! She's on night watch!"

"Jason, I am on night watch! I'm-" Emma couldn't finish as she took out her knife and aimed.

Jason was charging at her with full speed, the amplitude of their exchange waking the others up. Throwing her knife, the next thing she knew, Jason was dead. He fell to the ground, silent.

Emma was traumatized. She had killed someone without meaning to. She screamed until Troy covered her mouth and told her to calm down. Tears rushed from her eyes as she could feel the agony of Jason's family members, possibly Kim if she was alive, and anyone who really knew him.

"It's okay, Emma. It's okay," Troy cooed in a desperate attempt to calm her down. She heaved breaths when he uncovered her mouth, trying to catch the air that she lost during his death.

"I'm so s-sorry, Jason. I'm so sorry," she cried.

The wind swayed the trees as if Jason was attempting to let her know that it was okay.

. . . . .

The rest of the journey was numbing. Emma was secluded, save for when someone tried to talk to her. Her thoughts were occupied with Jason's death and his face before he lost his life. She didn't feel pain anymore. She felt empty, numb.

She felt as if the people watching her through their screens could feel her numbness. She looked at a camera from one of the trees, sending a signal with her eyes that everything was not okay. She glared at the camera as a way to intimidate the people leading the Games.

But they had not done anything to her. They provided her with a watch, gun, knife, and bottle, and she turned herself into a monster.

"No, Emma, you're not a monster," Gia hugged her. She must've said it out loud.

She had killed Jason, meaning Kim couldn't survive, meaning both the families of Kim and Jason were devastated. She had indirectly killed two families.

At that moment, she understood that this was what she was signed up for the second that she stepped into that car. Pain settled down in place of the numbness she felt earlier, and she gratefully accepted true pain over agony. Poppy walked beside her, staying even quieter than she did. She remembered the message on Poppy's collar.

 _Remember Us Now And Whenever Agony Yearns New Optimistic Wanderers._

Poppy was the closest she would get to having Jake, so she held the golden retriever in her arms, making sure that she wouldn't let this piece of him get away.

. . . . .

There were two weeks left until the two months ended. Which meant 4 days until the final 10 countdown arrived.

The 14th to last day was when real trouble started.

Emma's leg had a cut in it that no one had seen before, and the lack of attention caused it to form an infection.

"Emma, we don't know what to do. Our best shot is getting to the hospital ASAP," Antonio told her.

Emma took out her watch and had an idea.

"How many of us are there?" she asked.

"Five," Gia said.

"Okay, and we know that four died in front of at least one of our eyes. So that means we have eleven people to watch out for."

"Wait, I remember hearing that area 1 died of these red berries they found on a bush," Gia added.

"Okay, so we have nine people to watch out for. It's guaranteed that since it's morning time, at least one person has strayed from their group to find food. If I turn on my signal, someone's gonna see it."

"Wait, what? Why are we attracting people?" Troy asked.

"They'll think we're idiots. They're gonna have their watches on to look out for signals from their team since they've strayed. If they suddenly see a red one, they'll know they have someone to kill. And as far as I know, most people think Gia, Lauren, and Antonio are dead. That means they'll call some backup to fight you and me, Troy. They'll probably only call one other person because we've been under the radar, so they'll think we're weak. Because of that, they're gonna come two at a time, and after two or three calls, we should have almost every area dead."

"What's the point of this plan, though?"

"If at least one person is dead from each area, then the other person will die."

Gia cried, thinking about her upcoming death. Emma consoled her quickly before continuing.

"We have to find a way to get Gia out, too."

So with that, Emma turned on her signal for ten seconds, being sure to count. After ten, she turned it off, hiding in a bush. She was waiting for someone to come as soon as possible before her legs cramped, and she was rewarded with the sound of nearing footsteps. She aimed her gun, seeing two more people come. They must've been part of a group. Emma saw the others pointing guns, and when she was ready to shoot, she made a clicking sound as a signal.

Five gunshots fired all at the same time, killing the three people.

"Okay, that's round one. We've got both members of area 7 and a girl."

"Wait! That's Kim!" Gia exclaimed.

Emma walked up to Kim's body and took her backpack. She emptied the contents, finding a picture of Kim and Jason. She sighed of regret for what she had done and placed the backpack on the ground. They dragged the bodies into the stream, watching them float away.

"Alright, here's round two," Troy said. He sent a five second signal this time.

They knew to make the signals different lengths so no one caught onto their plan. They ducked into the bushes, aiming guns in five different directions.

Two people of different colored suits arrived, pointing guns. How they were all not able to catch onto her plan, Emma didn't know.

 _Click._

The two people were dead, one boy and one girl.

"I think those were the partners of the two people we killed," Troy said.

"How can you tell?" Lauren asked.

"They're wearing the same colors as the other two."

"That means all of areas 3 and 6 are dead," Antonio said. "We still have 5 and 8."

"How can we get one person from each area?"

"I have an idea," Lauren said. "Antonio and I will go to one side of the forest and ring our alarms. Since they think we're dead, they'll have to investigate. You three stay here and ring your own."

"Wait," Emma interrupted. "What if this is the last time we see you?"

"Then... we'll see you in another life," Lauren smiled sadly and hugged Emma.

"Since this is the last time I see any of you because Jake is dead, I just want to thank you for treating me like a family. I don't think any of us would have known we existed before this, so at least we have one reason to thank the Games," Gia stated as she brushed some tears away.

Emma wiped a traitor tear and hugged Gia.

Emma added, "I would also like to thank you guys. I've said some horrible things in the past, and I regret all of that. Like Gia said, we've all been a family that's had its own problems but in the end, we'll always be toge-"

A gunshot.

Gia fell to the ground, a wound through her head from the bullet. She was already long dead, so the four had no time to waste. They took out their guns, and Lauren spotted a girl in the nearby bushes. She shot, hitting perfectly and destroying another opponent. Antonio found a boy in the trees and threw a knife. It didn't hit the boy, but he lost his balance and fell, the height of the fall being the reason of his death.

With no time to mourn, they all ran.

"Area 8! We still have to kill Area 8 before they find the hospital!"

"Antonio, we have to find the hospital first! There's no time to waste!" Troy yelled.

Emma couldn't run that quickly, for the infection in her leg was spreading rapidly. Troy scooped her up, picking up the pace as more gunshots could be heard in the distance.

"They're here!" Lauren cried.

The gunshot became louder until Emma could practically hear them zooming by her head.

"Everyone hide!" she screamed.

Troy and Emma ducked into a bush while Lauren and Antonio stayed in the other. There was silence for a full minute, and it was driving Emma insane. She saw a camera pointing at the two inside the bush, and she gave it a look of pure horror.

She heard two voices whispering.

"David, are they there?" the girl asked.

"Shut up, Hailey."

Emma glared. The guy had no right to treat Hailey like that. She took out her gun and tilted her view so she could see where they were.

"I just want to know if you see them, that's all," Hailey said.

"Will you please shut up? Hell, you're so stupid."

Emma saw a foot, and what he just said was enough for her to shoot him in blind fury. She saw the others were pointing their guns.

 _Click._

Both of the people were dead. Emma was upset that Hailey was shot, but who knew how powerful the girl was. She got up and brushed herself off, sighing and thinking back at everything that happened that morning.

 _Attention,_ a speaker said _, because it seems we have an alliance happening here, we have decided to change the rules. Today is the last day to find the hospital. Whoever finds it first survives. Even if both members of the other group are alive, they will die. Thank you, and enjoy the Games._

Emma looked at Lauren and Antonio who mirrored her expression of disbelief.

"Emma, we won't hurt you. Please, don't hurt us," Lauren cried.

"No, no. Of course not," Emma said breathlessly. "I guess this is goodbye."

"Yeah. Thank you for everything," Antonio said.

"Good luck," said Troy. "We're glad we could meet you both."

Lauren and Antonio nodded and ran away. Emma hugged Troy, tears spilling from her eyes.

"We're alone, Troy. We have no one," she sobbed. Troy felt himself crying too.

"We are. It hurts so much. Not even Poppy's here."

Emma couldn't even imagine what happened to Poppy. She spent another ten minutes crying before she realized that Lauren and Antonio were well on their way to finding the hospital.

"How do we know where to go?" Emma asked. "How did we know where to go this whole time?"

"I don't know."

This whole time, they had been travelling without any knowledge.

"Did your friend say anything to you about the hospital?" Emma asked.

"He did mention something about the most dangerous area."

What was the most dangerous area? Emma couldn't think of anything that could be as dangerous as-

"The center," Troy stated. "That's where the hospital will be."

"Why didn't anybody go there?" Emma asked.

"Haven't you ever read the _Hunger Games_? That's like the deadliest place!" he exclaimed.

. . . . .

The sun was halfway done setting, and Emma was extremely close to going mad.

"How long do you think it'll take us to get there?" she asked.

"Probably another ten minutes. Do you want to run?"

She nodded, and they watched their radars to see how close they were getting to the center. After four minutes, they stopped and saw a light coming from the center. Walking closer, they noticed that there was a small building. They raced down, being sure to hold onto each other's hands.

"Ready to go in?" Troy asked as they reached the entrance.

"More than ever," Emma said.

. . . . .

Twenty four hours later, Emma was back home. Headlines blazed the screen - Emma and Troy this, Troy and Emma that. She turned off the television, hugging her parents as tightly as possible. Troy walked in through the front entrance, smiling when he saw her parents.

"Thank you, thank you! You saved my daughter!" Mr. Goodall exclaimed.

"Actually, it was her doing," Troy smiled at her and winked.

In that moment, Emma had no doubt that Troy would be there by her side for the rest of her life, and honestly, she was completely for that proposition.

 **Thank you for reading. This was a long chapter, so reviews would be appreciated! I would especially like to hear suggestions for future topics from the readers!**


	3. pity

**Don't forget to favorite, follow, and/or review! Also, be sure to check out my other stories. Enjoy.**

Scenario: Where pity creates sparks. Based off a Tumblr post that gave the basic idea of this chapter.

The rain wouldn't stop pouring. Skies light gray, breeze flowing through the leaves, a few people on the streets. Emma heard the loud pats of rain on the window, relishing in the calmness of the storm itself. She patiently waited for her phone to buzz, ring, whatever it took to get a message. Thankfully, her phone buzzed.

"Hey! Yeah I'll see you there tomorrow!" she smiled and hung up.

Emma was scheduling a date with a guy she'd never met. It disheartened her that she had to resort to the internet to find a love that wasn't guaranteed, but she'd do what she had to. She just wanted to feel sparks. The sun was far gone, and the city outside was lit with the lights from hundreds of different buildings. Shutting her curtains, Emma rested her head on a pillow and shut her eyes.

. . . . .

The café didn't take long to walk to. She just had to take a left, walk two blocks, and it'd be right there, greeting her with the strong aroma of coffee and bread. She remembered the late nights she'd visit to finish papers, and it annoyed the baristas. But they loved her, so they stayed by her side throughout the night and finished their own work. Warm white studio ceiling lights shone different areas of the room, and she chose a booth next to the window. The usually quiet café was interrupted by obnoxiously loud men in one corner of the room, and she glared at them while trying to understand what they didn't understand about peace. It was six o'clock. She was half an hour early. Just enough time to order a coffee.

By the time she had finished her favorite coffee and croissant, it was six forty-five. She didn't care because he was probably stuck in traffic and needed his time to get there.

There were no cars outside.

Seven thirty hit, and she was sad. Her phone was filled with messages, but none of them were from him. It was her first shot at online dating, and having this as her first experience discouraged her completely. She never wanted to try online dating again if her results would always end up this way. She checked her social media, scrolling to his username and clicking his page.

He had blocked her. On every social media.

She sighed, a headache forming in her head from how tired she was. The café was starting to empty its people, but those that stayed gave her pity-filled looks. John the barista walked over.

"Feeling okay, Em?" he asked, passing her a coffee.

"Just got flaked on by some guy," Emma exhaled, resting her head on her palm. "Thanks again for the coffee."

"No problem. We're closing up around ten. How long do you plan to stay?" he asked.

"I don't know. I might leave soon since tomorrow I have work."

"Linda giving you too many papers?" he chuckled.

"You have no idea," she grinned, happy that she could count on John.

He was handsome, but she would never date him. He was her friend. Nothing more, at least according to what she wanted.

He nodded and walked back behind the counter, continuing to help new customers pronounce the names of coffee. She frowned, sadness piling in her heart that she thought she had an opportunity when she wasn't meant to have one.

"Babe!" a soothing male voice called. "I'm so sorry I was late. Traffic was heavy."

A brunet guy with the most gorgeous face she'd ever seen walked over and sat in the booth across from her. Emma was completely confused. This was not the guy who she had planned to meet. In fact, he looked like one of the loud men from before.

"Just go with it, okay? I saw you earlier," he smiled.

John looked over at them, giving a disapproving look at the boy in front of her for being so late.

"My name's Troy."

"I'm Emma," she smiled. "Thank you."

He nodded and called another barista over, ordering food for both of them.

"Anyway, since I'm here, why don't we get to know each other?" he asked.

"Okay, so I was born in Cali and moved here to go to NYU. I've been here for three years, and this is my favorite place in the city."

"Really? I was born in Washington and go to NYU, too. This is my last year," Troy smiled. "But I have a question. Why were you here today?"

"Well," she frowned, gaining more of his attention because of how hurt she looked, "it's my first time trying online dating. I was supposed to meet someone here, but he ditched me and seems like he doesn't want to talk to me considering he blocked me on social media."

"Damn," Troy said, "that's a bitchy move. I'm sorry. He didn't deserve you in the first place, anyway."

She nodded, giving a sad smile and being unable to respond without bursting into tears.

"This is the most embarrassing thing that I've done. It's even worse than keeping the café open until midnight to finish schoolwork."

"Emma, I'm here now," he firmly stated, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Now, let's talk."

Hands still held together, they spent time talking, laughing, thinking. It was just them. No one else. The place was long empty save for the few baristas getting ready to clean up. Troy fiddled with her fingers mindlessly, rambling about his days when his passion was football. She passionately listened, loving how the sound of his voice mixed with the lingering smell of coffee and sugar. She rested her head in the corner where the booth met the window, closing her eyes and imagining him detail the story.

"Before, I just loved football, partying, and girls. Thinking about it now scares me because who knows where I'd be now if I didn't give up my habits before college. What about you?"

She opened her eyes, thinking of a story worthy of telling.

"Well, when I was a junior in high school, I got into photography. I don't know; it just... made sense to me. I loved capturing moments that were worth keeping forever. And because of photography, I met this guy," she couldn't guarantee, but she almost felt his hand tense around hers at that detail. "He showed me different ways to see life and capture memories. He made those memories and made sure I kept them. Then, it just stopped. I just... didn't feel like his presence was worth keeping forever. He wasn't the greatest person, and like you said, I don't know where I'd be today if I didn't give him up. I'm glad I did."

John walked over, causing them to look up and snap out of their trance.

"It's ten thirty. Sorry, but it's time to go. I can't stay back tonight."

Emma smiled, paying her share of the bill and exiting the door after saying goodbye. Troy followed close behind.

"Emma, I had a good time tonight," he grinned.

"Me too. Thank you, Troy," she nearly whispered.

Troy reached down and planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Until next time," he added, and after a second of just admiring, he turned and left.

. . . . .

"Yes, Dad. I'll come to the charity event. Who'll I go with, though?" Emma whined, speaking through the phone with her father.

"Obviously Jake! He's your brother, Emma!" he exclaimed, exasperated. "See you tonight at 7. Don't be late! Your brother's picking you up."

 _Oh, yeah_ , Emma thought. Every time they went to a dance, Jake was her guardian for the night. He was only two years older than her, but as her sibling, he made sure that it was his life's duty to make sure no guy hit on her each time.

Emma wore her signature baby blue a line gown and quickly tied her hair half-up half-down. She didn't see the sparks in her face like she used to the first time she wore the dress. She saw a girl hurt by the world, exposed to the evil outside of her bubble. She heard two honks, and she knew Jake was waiting.

"You look awesome, Em!" he shouted. "By the way, Dad says we have to be well behaved tonight because some big investors are bringing their sons."

"Yeah, yeah. He tells us to be good each time. Have we ever let him down?" she rolled her eyes.

The entrance to the hall was large as usual, so she wasn't phased by the enormity of the marble walls and statues. The money had settled in her stream, not that she was too fond of it. It was boring being supported all the time.

"Welcome, Ms. Goodall, Mr. Goodall. Please, come this way," a middle-aged woman in a tight suit and skirt told.

They went, arm linked in arm, and she let out a small smile at the amount of people in the room. She truly was proud of her father and how far he'd come to get to this position. She loved him, and seeing this brought sparks in her eyes.

"So," Jake started, "there's the chocolate fountain, there's the restroom, and that's the group of investors and sons."

Emma groaned, "I'm not stupid, Jake."

"If any guy tries to even touch you, let me know so I can beat the sh-"

"Okay!" she cried. "I'll be fine. I see Gia there, so I'll just go to her."

"Wait," Jake stopped her, "can I come with you?"

Emma laughed, attracting stares from people around them. She teased him for liking Gia, but he glared and tried to stop himself from flipping her off. Gia walked up the stairs to them, smiling shyly at Jake before turning to Emma.

"Emma! C'mon! It's almost time for the first couple's dance! We can dance together!" Gia grinned.

Emma glided down the large stairs carefully, giggling as Gia almost tripped over her heels. They both hated heels, so she didn't know why Gia would wear them.

"Emma, this is Orion. Orion, Emma," Gia introduced.

"Hi," he smiled, kissing her hand. "Look, you're extremely beautiful, but I'm not interested in a relationship. So-"

"Don't worry. Neither am I," she chuckled, hearing "good" in response.

"Troy! Come meet this girl!" Orion turned and called. Emma's eyes widened.

Countless nights she'd stayed up, watching the twinkling city lights from her tall window while imagining him. That evening. His hand. His words. His eyes. Him. She was mesmerized by how he could capture her mind and make her swoon more than the online guy would've ever made her.

"Emma?" she heard him, watching him walk over. Orion walked away towards the chocolate fountain, leaving the two of them.

Troy was a whole head taller than her, so he tilted his head down to look at her.

"Well, this is a surprise. _My_ Emma," he smiled softly. "How are you?"

"Better. You?"

"Much better," he held her hand like they did at the café. "May I have this dance?"

"Of course," Emma giggled and let him guide her to the dancing area.

Her gown skirt flowed freely against the floor, and she noticed that even with Troy being absolutely amazing, he had the slightest bit of two left feet.

"Well, I'm not the best waltzer, but I can dance. Trust me. That's how I won the ladies," he wiggled his eyebrows.

Emma laughed, noticing quickly how his hand on her back held her closer to him.

"I have a question. You know why I was at the café the other day, so why are you here tonight?"

Troy mock gasped, replying, "Does my Emma not want me to be here? My father wants me to run his business soon, so I'm supposed to get to know all these people. Please, don't leave my side. I'm so bored here."

"Dad always brings me to these things because I'm 'good with the cameras', so I learned that the best way to get rid of the boredom is by making a friend who you know will come every time. That's how I met Gia..." Emma trailed off, seeing Gia and Jake holding hands and Gia blushing.

"What?" Troy turned to see what she was looking at. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh yeah, yeah. You see that guy talking to the blonde? That's my brother, Jake. And she's Gia."

Emma couldn't help but watch what her friend and brother did. She rested her head on Troy's chest, letting him hold her and slowly guide her through the dance. She wanted what they had. She felt Troy place a small kiss on her forehead like he did that night.

. . . . .

Two weeks passed, and nothing changed. She still lived in her little apartment, watching her city through the window. Snow graced the sidewalk, so she threw on boots instead of heels and headed to work. Before entering her job, she rushed to the café to get her usual coffee.

"Em!" John yelled over the people. "I got your coffee!"

Emma grinned, taking the warm cup from him but stopping when she saw Troy sitting at their booth. She walked over, sitting across from him. He didn't look up, fully engrossed in his phone. She took his hand, making him look up and smile.

"My Emma," he sighed. "I thought you were some girl who just wanted to get with this."

She chuckled, "Nobody could get any of that except for me... Oh my goodness."

She gasped at what she just said. She just implied that she was the only one who could have intercourse with him! She wanted to bury herself in a hole and never come out. Troy just shook his head and laughed.

"I wanted to ask you if you'd actually like to go out with me sometime soon. Maybe tonight?" he asked nervously.

"Of course," she grinned.

"Really?" he asked, smiling ear-to-ear. "You do?"

She nodded and squeezed his hand.

That night, Emma couldn't breathe through her nose. Her eyes were puffy red, throat aching, sinus irritated.

"Troy?" she sniffled.

"Emma? Are you okay?" he asked.

She explained how sick she was and how she couldn't go out that night.

"I'm coming over now. You need to feel better," he stated and hung up.

Ten minutes later, she heard a knock at the door and saw Troy carrying a bag. He wore a black trench coat, and he was shivering.

"Get in! You'll freeze!" Emma commanded and ushered him in.

"Get to bed," he teased and took her to her bedroom.

Thankfully, she was already in her pajamas. Tucking her in, he left the room and returned with the bag. Emma opened it to find take-out, a thermos, and a box of tissues. She took out the tissues and spent a few minutes blowing her nose while Troy answered a quick phone call. Yawning, she opened the boxes of food and ate. She couldn't stop; she didn't realize how hungry she was over how clogged her sinus was. Once done, Troy cleaned up, still not saying anything.

"Thank you," she whispered as he laid down in the spot next to her, playing with her hair.

"That night, I never got to finish talking to you because they had to close."

And so for the next hour, he told her silly stories of how he fought a gang and only scraped his knee, how he saw the Loch Ness Monster and rode on its back, and quick story how a prince met a princess that he would forever call his. Emma giggled but listened intently. He continued playing with her hair, lost in his thoughts while she was lost in his eyes. Right before she fell into a slumber, she stopped his hand from playing with her hair, intertwining their fingers. She gave a quick kiss on the back of his palm before closing her eyes and resting her head against his chest.

"Good night, my princess."


	4. addiction

_Sorry it's been six months. I seriously do not have an excuse, but I'm ready to get back to writing. xx I'd like some prompts to be recommended, but it's not mandatory to write a prompt unless you'd really like it to happen._

 _Prompt: From Tumblr. When both can't sleep, but it's because one can't stop bugging the other._

"You know I don't sleep late! I just can't!" Emma groaned.

"Well, I guess I do need to buy coffee before I run out. Come with? We can get something you like," the brunet boy offered.

Troy's sleepover study session with the gang was all the group talked about nowadays. Their schedules conflicted, meaning no one could see all the others at the same time. Gia suggested two weeks before to go to an amusement park on a Saturday, but Noah had to leave for a science convention. Troy suddenly interrupted, offering to have a "study sleepover" before finals. Everyone loved the idea except Emma, leading her to stop Troy a day before the sleepover and tell him about her problem.

"I love coffee, but I don't think you've seen me when I've had too much," she sighed. "It's guaranteed I'll forget how many cups I've had after the first two."

Troy chuckled and lightly pushed her to his car, saying, "I guess I'll get to see tomorrow!"

Emma loved QuikTrip. It was like a fancy gas station, and she loved buying a cup of coffee there before she went to school. Troy grabbed a few bags of chips and other junk food and met the shorter girl in front of the coffee section. She held up a bag of French roast, and they left a few minutes later with the bags in the trunk. The car moved out of the parking lot with the radio on full blast. Emma started twirling her ponytail, getting bored of the ride back home. All of the sudden, her favorite song on the radio started to play all of the sudden, and she turned to Troy with a serious look on her face.

He glanced at her before looking back at the road, raising his eyebrows at her sudden change of expression, and she started dancing with extremely exaggerated moves. She sang obnoxiously loudly, but he still noted how addictive her voice sounded at such a large amplitude.

"Are you done?" he finally asked when the song ended.

She nodded her head tiredly, and sat back, returning to twirling her hair and looking out the window. A small smile graced her face at what she just did, and she decided to do it again very soon.

. . .

Quite the rude person he was, Jake pulled Emma off her bed at 7 in the morning, laughing when she fell on the floor with a loud "thud". Gia giggled from behind him, coming up to Emma and lifting her up from the carpet ground. She fixed the strands of Emma's hair that fell out of place, and Emma frowned and closed her eyes. Jake burst out laughing when he noticed her bright pink shorts with middle fingers printed all over them. Emma glared at him and stuck up the bird, and he turned away to walk out of the room, still chuckling to himself.

Gia dragged Emma out of the dark room to the bright living room where Noah and Orion were waiting. Unfortunately, Jake wasn't the only one who noticed her interesting choice of shorts, and Noah nudged Jake's arm and pointed to the middle fingers. Emma glared even more.

"Shove 'em up your ass, Carter," she groaned and almost escaped to the restroom before Gia grabbed her wrist.

"Since tonight's the big sleepover whatever-the-hell, we're all spending the whole day together. Get ready, Emma. We're heading out," Gia commanded.

"Bite me!" Emma said loudly and walked to the restroom.

She quickly freshened up after brushing her teeth and hair and sat down next to Troy on the couch after seeing him come in. He smirked when he saw her tired face and passed her a small box he had in his hand. She opened it to find a donut and immediately dug in. He could tell how painful it was for her waking up so early in the morning compared to everyone else.

"Thank you," she said gratefully and quickly pecked his cheek.

The day was long, and Emma just couldn't keep up. She started to think that something was wrong with her since she's already had breakfast, or maybe it was just that she needed to get into the habit of having two cups of coffee a day. She started to overthink, convincing herself that she was becoming a caffeine addict. She decided that the only way to find out would be to actually count how many cups of coffee she'd drink that night, but it wouldn't be easy.

. . .

"Are we seriously going to study?" Jake asked, resting his head on Emma's shoulder for support.

She patted his head in a motherly fashion, asking herself that question, too. She already felt prepared for next week, so there was no reason for her to actually open her notebooks and bore herself to sleep. The coffee would go to waste anyway.

"No," Troy chuckled, "we just needed to get Noah here somehow. Now that the man is here, I'm just gonna watch TV."

Jake smirked and winked at Gia, making her smile. They both knew what they wanted to do, and Emma grimaced at how disgusting they were.

"You two are horndogs! Get away from me!" she yelled, smacking their butts as they ran to Gia's room.

"Well, I'm going home," Noah said. "I'm telling you guys, these midterms aren't going to be easy. Just because we've been in college for two years already doesn't mean this third year's gonna be the same."

Orion stuck his tongue out, "You just don't want to have fun!"

Troy surfed through the channels, turning up the volume in case the two "horndogs" decided to get any louder. Emma and Orion jumped on the long couch, Emma sitting in between the two, placing her yoga pant legs on Orion and head on Troy's shoulder. Orion groaned.

"Why do I have to have the legs?" he whined. "At least Troy gets a girl's head on his shoulder!"

"In a few minutes, you'll be glad you won't have this girl asking you questions every second," Troy answered.

Emma rolled her eyes at both of them and reached for her first cup of coffee. It was only 9 o'clock, but she woke up at 7 that morning. She was already half asleep. Troy could smell the rich drink and felt a little dizzy, wanting some. He accidentally pouted when he saw her take a sip, and Emma burst out laughing.

"Do you want some?" she asked. He could only nod because of his embarrassment, and Emma simply handed him her cup. "I didn't feel like having the whole thing right now, anyways."

"Both of you, please shut up," Orion said, smacking Emma's foot when she lightly kicked him. Suddenly, his phone rang.

"Oh, shit!" Orion screamed. "I have a date tonight! I forgot!"

"Is she even worth it? C'mon! Watch a movie!" Emma said. He vigorously shook his head and ran out the door without saying goodbye, leaving Troy and Emma alone in the room.

She took her head off his shoulder and rested it on the armrest next to his arm, placing her legs on the couch. He had already finished the cup of coffee, and she was starting to fall asleep. The TV was loud, but she just needed some sleep. He suddenly realized how quiet she was being and reached down to say something in her ear.

"Wake up!" he yelled, causing Emma to jump up and gasp. "I'm not letting you sleep until that clock hits 2 in the morning! It's only 9:30, Em! Just stay up!"

She almost wanted to cry. She just wanted to sleep. It was so painful. He got up and went to the kitchen for a few minutes, coming back with a tray of two mugs. One had hot chocolate and the other with coffee. He took the hot chocolate, passing her the coffee mug. She started crying into her coffee about her lack of sleep. She just wanted to sleep! Oh, but the coffee was so good.

"Troy," she sniffled, "please make my coffee from now on."

He turned at the sound of her crying and started to laugh.

"Don't cry! We'll get through this."

"I've only had one cup of coffee, though. I don't think I can stay up!"

He grabbed her sweater from the coat hanger and wrapped it around her.

"We can do it together," he chuckled.

. . .

It was eleven in the night, but to Emma, it was Mardi Gras. She was practically bouncing off the walls with a smile on her face. Troy took the throw pillow and threw it at her when she wouldn't stop talking about Mardi Gras.

"...and it's purple and yellow everywhere and people are happy and I'm happy and, and..." she needed to gather her breath for a second.

He cupped her mouth and held her so she couldn't move. "You need to shut up! You're so loud."

He felt something soft move against the palm of his hand and realized that Emma was licking his hand.

"Emma, stop!" he yelled and wiped his palm. She started to giggle and turned around to give him a hug, ending up in her laying on top of him on the couch.

"Thank you for getting me coffee! You're a life saver! Can I call you Superman? You look like Sup-"

He stopped her talking by doing the first thing that came to his mind. He brought her head down close to his and kissed her. Her grip on his torso tightened slightly as she kissed him back, but he could tell it was probably the caffeine driving her crazy that made her do something she'd never do. He had to admit, he liked this more than he thought he would when he imagined it before. Emma sighed, just letting him do the kissing as she enjoyed it. They broke it off at the same time, and Troy thought he could taste some coffee in his own mouth. He needed to start making this coffee for himself.

"Troy, guess what?" she asked, a little quieter, playing with his hair.

"What?" he could only whisper, still in awe.

"I just got kissed by Superman, did you know that?" she giggled, twirling his hair.

"Yeah, I did," he pecked her nose. "I think that's enough coffee for today, don't you think?"

"I kinda like it," she said. "If I drink coffee, Superman kisses me."

He thought to himself about how many cups of coffee he accidentally let her drink, slapping himself mentally. No one was this crazy on just three cups or less. He twisted around on the couch to get in a more comfortable position for the both of them.

"I think we can work on getting you to stay awake for another time," he said, yawning.

Emma frowned and looked up at him, "At this rate, I have enough caffeine in my system to stay awake for two decades. I just... like this."

She played with the fabric of his t-shirt, using her other arm to hold herself closer to him. At least she had one thing to thank midterms for.


	5. longing

Thank you for your patience. You all are why I write. I do not appreciate criticism unless constructive - fiction is an expression of emotion, something not to be shut down for correction.

This chapter is longer because it's spanned over a longer period of time, so it'll cut here and there. Language warning.

 **Scenario: Where business comes before family.**

* * *

College may have been long gone, but Emma was thankfully sheltered safely under the piles of money her parents had waiting for her. She loved her parents, she really did, and her appreciation for this gesture was more than she could physically express. So dear Emma Marie Goodall used the money she had saved up on her own to take a year-long trip to the third-world country of her choice, where she would provide food, water, clothing, and other resources to people who deserves the luxury she only felt she didn't understand enough.

She wanted to get her hands dirty.  
She wanted to use her hands to help others.  
She wanted to have her hands leave a mark on the world.

And life had gone according to plan, where she flew out as soon as she could, a small suitcase with clothes and hygiene essentials packed tidily. Never one for extremity, simplicity was enough for her. Her eyes were set on the prize, too:

To live up to Jane Goodall.

Uncanny, truly, was it that they shared the same last name. But Emma only used this to her advantage as a source of energy to boost her when she needed to understand why she was she way she was. Why she cared so much about others when she left herself behind.

Because she was a Goodall. And never were they known to back down.

The only kink in the gears, though, was the words that Mr. Goodall had just uttered.

"Run that by me again," Emma said calmly.

"Emma, sweetheart, get your ears checked! You're growing more deaf each day!" she heard her mother shout from the other end of the phone.

"Oh, don't listen to her. I know it's a lot to take in, and now that you're coming home, it's the best time to tell you."

The girl didn't need to be reminded of the few days she had left before flying back. The private jet was already waiting to pick her up, so it was just a matter of how long she would wait before she boarded.

"I said that it's only a matter of business, but there's a deal I'm planning to make with another company that would love to merge with us. All you have to do is marry the son of the CEO, and that's it. The contract didn't specify how long you needed to be together, just as long as it's confirmed you two were married in the first place. How does that sound?"

"Do you know what you're asking of me?" she sighed, placing two fingers to her left temple.

"Emma, he's not a bad guy. You'll like him. Just watch. Fly back as soon as you can, and we can review the contract with him and his father. Sounds good?"

"Dad, I-" she began, but he had already hung up.

Never had this Goodall felt so trapped.

* * *

The formal dress she wore was a matte black, and her hair flowed down gently. She didn't want to focus too much on the details of the outfit, particularly because she had just spent a full year wearing baggy t-shirts and Nike shorts. But the earrings stood out to her, simple, tiny pearls that matched her concept of minimalism.

She walked into the room after two men who followed her father, and the room was then cleared of any assistants and unimportant people regarding the present matter. A lawyer in a well-pressed silver suit sat in a seat in between two ends of the table, and it wasn't until he sat that Emma looked to see who was sitting at the other end of the long conference table. The swivel chairs in between both ends, save for the lawyer's, were all empty and neatly tucked into their spots under the table, but on the opposite side sat a shrewd man with gray hair and worry lines on his forehead. He was alone.

"We'll have to wait for my son," the man said, his angry look suddenly turned around and forming an apologetic smile.

Emma sighed, recognizing the man. Burrows, her father had said. Jason Burrows of Genesis Companies. Emma was never one for business terms, but she was the face of her father's company. The year-long trip she took on her own time had to be methodically planned out to make it seem like she was branching out to other regions of the world, though she just wanted to have some time to herself and her volunteering pursuits.

She suddenly found herself standing up with everyone else as a group of bodyguards walked into the room, preventing her from seeing his face. She could make out lines of black from his suit, but other than that, he was a mystery she wasn't interested in finding out about. Disinterest to the point where she hadn't looked up his appearance, so he could either be the ugliest person she'd ever seen or the handsomest. Somewhere on the spectrum, even. But never had she seen an average-looking business mogul.

She had to quickly look down to fix her shoe just as the bodyguards dispersed one-by-one out the room, finally exposing how he looked. A strict yet warm voice suddenly alarmed the young Goodall, causing her hand to slip momentarily while she adjusted the Dr. Scholl's cushions in her heels.

Feeling her father quietly nudge her shoulder to sit up again, she gently raised herself, noticing how everyone was looking at her. Noticing how he was looking at her.

 _He was dastardly beautiful._

An adonis he was, though she wasn't sure if he was the type to flaunt it. He didn't smile when he looked at her and instead gave her a cold glare only she was able to decipher. He didn't like her. Not one bit.

In fact, she could get the feeling that he even hated her, to some extent. And though she'd grown up avoiding the cold stares people would give her on the street as she walked with two bodyguards on her sides, she couldn't get his out of her head.

The lawyer had read off the agreements in the contract, and with a large heap of adjustments to meet both sides' requirements, Emma Marie Goodall had signed herself into her first marriage.

She mentally emphasized "first".

* * *

Her father wouldn't let her go home that day.

"You're getting married, Emma. At least go and spend some time with him! Get to know him. Didn't I tell you he's a nice guy?"

"Dad, he hates me with a burning passion! Did you see how he looked at me back there?"

"No, Emma. I didn't. I was too busy listening to the contract agreements. Please behave yourself. You're in a public place," her father warned, his tone suddenly dropping to a quiet level.

And just then did the Burrows father-son duo walk into the car garage to meet up with the Goodalls.

"Miss Goodall," the father in the duo began, "it is my honor to welcome you to the family. You will make an exceptional Burrows."

Emma smiled, realizing she had been antagonizing the man.

"Thank you, Mr. Burrows."

"Well," her father interrupted, "it's best that Jason and I head back to my office for some more discussion. You kids have a good night."

Maybe it seemed like seconds, but Emma stood there as her father and soon-to-be father-in-law drove away. She was left alone with the man she despised. She turned around to find him, only to see him reading something intently on his phone.

"Hi," she could only say quietly with the courage she had left in her.

He acknowledged her with a simple grunt, still reading the messages on his phone. She cupped her hands together in front of her, swinging them back and forth as she looked around, trying to find something interesting to watch as she waited for him to finish. He lifted an eyebrow in her direction, noting her patience after what had just happened.

"You do realize this is only a business deal," he stated.

"So you _do_ speak," she rebutted. "And don't worry, I won't get all lovey-dovey on you. You already have that going on with your phone."

He groaned, putting his device away.

"Happy now?" he asked annoyed.

"Why are you already mad at me?" she rolled her eyes. "I haven't done a single thing to you."

"Let's just go home," he muttered.

"This marriage between us is the last thing I need right now, considering I have a business to run," he turned to her to say.

"Excuse you, Troy. I had been out of the country for the past year before this, and I could have done something if it wasn't for this arrangement between us."

They both knew the conversation was going nowhere and kept silent the whole ride. She did notice, though, how he didn't go on his phone again.

* * *

"I wasn't really expecting company, as you know, so I've only got my bed to sleep. It's fine, though; I'll just sleep on the couch," he said, tossing his things mindlessly onto the smooth sofa.

Emma felt extremely out of place, noticing how the simplicity she longed for went missing in the drastically-pompous room they were in. And the bedroom. Oh, the bedroom. As if a king-sized bed wasn't enough for two people. She had slept on a cot in a tiny room, and he considered this to be too little for two people.

"Troy?" she asked quietly. She really had to learn to step up the assertiveness.

He turned around while fumbling with his tie, loosening it.

"Yeah?"

"That bed is more than enough for two people," she chuckled half-heartedly. "Don't sleep on the couch."

"Little Miss Scandalous, are we now?" he taunted. "I thought you hated my sucker ass."

"No," Emma sighed, walking to sit next to him on the couch, "it's just a big transition that neither of us really wants."

He let out a small sigh.

"And," she continued, "let's try to refrain from the name-calling. I've got a whole list up my sleeve that could put your insults six feet under."

* * *

Come bedtime, it was already past midnight. Her eyelids dropped, but she pulled herself together again. All Emma wanted to do was wait it out as long as possible so as to avoid accidentally doing the one thing she always did when sleeping.

Cuddling.

She grew up with a plethora of stuffed animals, from a tiny elephant named Jessie to a giraffe that she refused to go near. And because she slept with those same stuffed animals, she ended up cuddling them for comfort. She loved hearing the thunder on rainy nights and listening to the wind when storms passed by, so the only reason why she cuddled was to make others feel safe.

"Go to bed, Emma," Troy groaned, reaching out to take away the book she tried to read.

"Oh, sorry. Sorry, sorry," she kept mumbling under her breath.

"Will you shut up already?" he groaned even more, muffled by the pillow he hugged tightly to his face.

"Sorry," she whispered again, to which he looked up at her.

"Emma, come to bed."

She jumped into her side of the bed, turning off the light next to her. He sighed out of immense relief, dropping back to the pillow he was holding onto before, but poor Emma Goodall could only stare at the ceiling above her. The occasional faint beeping from the kitchen's fire alarm kept her occupied with how long the breaks were in between each beep. She decided to herself that it took about ten minutes before the alarm beeped again, and at this point, Troy's deep breathing from sleeping only encouraged her to sit back.

Relax, she told herself against her will. Relax.

And before she knew it, she was sound asleep.

* * *

Emma wanted to throw up. At the same time, though, she was starving. The change in time zones had completely destroyed both her sleeping and eating cycles, so she felt like she'd been transported straight to hell. Thankfully, the nausea passed away as soon as it had arrived, so all she could think about was her rumbling stomach.

"Make it stop," Troy whined, thinking the loud grumbling noises were his phone vibrating.

She ran out of the room into the bathroom, brushing her teeth quickly and fixing herself up, and by the time she was done, Troy was still sound asleep.

Wait, she just realized that she woke up on her own side of the bed! She didn't even cuddle him! She burst into a bright smile and scurried into the kitchen, looking for something to eat.

"Nutella," she whispered, taking in the scent of the food she turned to for comfort in the other country.

"No," she heard a deep voice grumble from behind her, scaring her. "Don't eat that. It's old."

Only after her initial fright did she notice how he looked in front of her, with his disheveled hair and comfortably tight t-shirt clinging onto his body. But oh dear, he was wearing some very tight briefs that showed off just enough to let imagination do the rest.

"Troy, your..." she pointed down, to which he smirked and looked up at her with a boyish grin.

"It's nothing. Besides, we're engaged, right?" he joked before turning around and walking away.

* * *

 _"What do you mean you have to go out of town? Again?" Emma frowned, but Troy lifted up her chin._

 _"I'll come back as soon as I can, okay?" he smiled, searching to meet her eyes._

 _She sighed, looking up at him. He nearly towered over her, but she lifted herself just enough to plant a long kiss on his cheek, holding him close to her._

 _"I'll miss you."_

 _"Emma, I promise I'll come home soon."_

 _He held her closer to himself, burying his face in her hair. It killed him to leave her once again, for he secretly loved everything about her._

 _"Wake up."_

 _Huh? Emma looked up at him, a glimmer in her eyes from being lovestruck. Was lovestruck the word? Maybe she felt too much too soon._

 _"Wake up, Emma."_

 _What?_

 _"Wake_ _up!" he yelled._

Emma jolted upright in bed, crashing directly into someone else's face.

"Ow-ow! What the fuck!" Troy yelled.

There were tears streaming down her cheeks, but they weren't from the pain she felt growing on her forehead. Her heart was racing too quickly, and her breathing was rapid and loud. Her crying has long stopped, but she noticed how both of her hands held a death grip on Troy's shirt.

"Are you okay?" he asked concernedly, focusing on her tears.

"Mm-hmm," she said breathlessly. "What happened?"

"Did you have a nightmare or something? You were crying."

"Was I crying loudly? I'm so sorry for waking you up."

"Em, calm down. Deep breaths, there you go."

She placed her hand against her forehead, feeling a bump forming. Looking at him, she saw the color in his eyes close up. A deep green. She wanted to drown in those eyes. She wanted to be wrapped in his lips. She wanted to be held by him. And as if he could hear her thoughts, he took the blanket he was covered in and wrapped it around her, holding her to his chest.

He turned them around so he was resting against the headboard of the bed, with her head on his chest. Only her head was visible, for the rest of her body was hidden by the silky duvet that they shared. His left hand found itself caressing her hair, his other arm resting on her back.

"I'm sorry," he heard her say.

"Don't be. Get some rest."


	6. distraction

This is a specialty chapter based on the actual _Power Rangers: Megaforce_ season. I do not own any characters or settings belonging to Saban Brands. Also, it has been a while since I originally saw the seasons, so forgive me for replacing some terms with generic references. Creepox and Dizchord are honestly the only villains I remember. (Is it even spelled Dizchord?)

* * *

 **SCENARIO:** When mighty Red needs help after a tough battle.

* * *

Gosei fails to mention to the rangers that Creepox still has a bit of a vengeance against the Megaforce Rangers.

And though he apologizes profusely, Troy can't help but yell at him for forgetting to include this before the last time they fought him. The girls have already taken a toll before because of this guy, and the others, especially Orion, don't want that to happen again.

Specifically Orion, for he doesn't know the monster that plagues their dreams at night.

He doesn't know the monster that nearly killed Emma and Gia, the one that set up an entire plan before to take away Noah's powers. The monster that lives a thousand lives outside of its own.

"Do you hear me, Gosei? Do you understand how much we've been through?" Troy demands him to answer, but the face on the wall stays silent, almost apologetically silent. Troy can't tell because Gosei doesn't show emotion.

"It will just be one more battle, rangers. Just one more battle."

Gia sighs loud enough for everyone to glance her way.

"I know, guys. It's tough for all of us, but we just have to get through this. Besides, we've defeated every monster we've come across, so Creepox shouldn't be that exception."

Gia turns to see if Emma approves of what she said, and the pink smiles, nodding slightly along with the rest of the rangers.

Troy still feels angry.

* * *

Emma hears the music playing from the speakers of the store nearby as they wait in silence for Creepox to appear. She find the music countering her attempts at relaxing, and it's taking everything within her to shut it up. It's faint, but it screams.

She points her gun to the speaker and shoots, blowing up the device. The area is clear of civilians (and she's in her suit), so no one knows she did it. She lets out the breath she doesn't realize she's holding in, and the others look at her with what she can only assume are looks of disbelief.

But she hears Troy let out a pent-up breath next to her.

And suddenly, she finds she doesn't care what the others think about what she'd done.

It's been like this for months at this point.

She feels her heart flutter at the sound of his voice. She'll feel her throat swell up and her stomach fill with butterflies when he looks at her with those eyes. And because they're injury buddies (a thing Jake came up with to get closer to Gia after battles), the touch of his fingers against her skin, whether injured or not, is enough to make her flush.

She doesn't know if he knows that. She hopes that he doesn't know, but at the same time, part of her hopes that he does.

But all of her wants him to feel the same way.

* * *

So maybe it's a false alarm for Creepox because the gang is instead met by an endless army of normal monsters, waiting to pounce. Troy watched Emma in combat the entire time, making sure his point to look out for her is enough to go to her side if Creepox appears.

The sudden increase in concern for her wellbeing stems not only from his instinct to protect his main counterpart but to also preserve what he's been experiencing for quite some time now. He's seen parts of her he wouldn't have seen had they not become injury buddies. And not only does this include the bruises on her stomach from taking a large punch or two, but also her personality when she lets her guard down.

It's the same personality that he was intrigued by when he heard her sing in the field before school that one day.

He loves that about her, how she knows exactly how to comfort others while comforting herself. He loves everything about her, though it's too early for either of them to say they love each other. He loves everything about her, though. And that's all that matters at the moment.

Even though he keeps a close eye on her in that battle, there's no need, for she handles each monster perfectly, just like how she trained with Gia. He loves that about her, too. How she's as fearless as he.

But his sudden loud of thoughts prevents him from realizing the true enemy is right behind him, and Emma runs over as soon as she sees Creepox, blocking a major potential hit to Troy's blind side. Creepox grabs her and punches her twice with his other arm, causing Troy to rush into a panic. He looks around to find the others, but they're hidden by the crowds of monsters all waiting to jump at the opportunity to attack the rangers.

And Troy finds himself meeting a sharp pain in his own stomach, looking down to see a stab from Creepox's scepter. He falls to the ground, and the world turns to black. Coincidentally, the last thing he sees is Emma's fragile face, contorted with worry and fear. If he looks close enough, he can see tears.

* * *

Troy wakes up in front of Gosei on a cot, Emma sitting right next to him. Gia is kneeling down next to Emma, bandaging the new bruises now right under her chest. He sees her wince in pain, earning the same reaction on his own.

"Will you be okay, Em?" Gia asks, brushing off her hands and standing up.

From where he sees her, Emma looks sad.

"Yeah," she says quietly.

"Emma, he _will_ wake up. I know it, and so do you."

Troy expects Gosei to intervene, but he hears nothing. He keeps his eyes closed until he knows Gia is completely out of the control center, and then he opens his eyes. Emma is in her same position, this time with a hand over her injured area. She isn't crying, but she's definitely upset. She senses the movement in the bed next to her and turns sharply, sighing and letting the tears flow as he wakes up.

"Troy," she whispers, getting up about to give him a hug but realizing she'd touch the stab wound. She resorts to a long kiss on his forehead.

He sighs. She hears it, and smiles. He feels that. He wraps his arms in hers to hold her, pulling her down a bit more. His face ends up in her neck, and he sighs again, as if he has any more breath to spare.

"Emma," he suddenly says alarmed, pulling her away to place his hand on her bandaged bruises. She lets out a small cry, and he frowns, pulling away and keeping her still so she doesn't place pressure on that area.

"Troy, these bruises heal quickly. You know that," she lets out a small chuckle. "I was waiting for you to wake up so I could take care of your injuries on your back, but now that I think about it, you won't be getting up for a bit."

"What-"

"Don't worry. Your parents think we're all at a field trip. They are a little mad, though, that you didn't tell them about it."

"Okay," he rests back, looking straight up at the ceiling lights. "Why hasn't Gosei said anything?"

"He's been busy contacting other ranger bases for support. He won't be talking to us, but that's okay. You need quiet."

It takes everything within him not to say that all he needs is her. But he knows that it's not the right moment, so he looks at her as she replaces his bandages.

* * *

He's shirtless, she thinks. She wants to simply reach out and fall into his arms, and considering how large his frame is compared to hers, he could easily make her lost in his embrace. She watches the way his hands shift from above his hand to by his side, depending on how awkward the placement would be while she works on his injuries. She knows he's watching her, but part of her thinks it's because the light above him is too blinding to fall asleep.

"Troy," she finds herself saying, noticing him jolt up slightly in surprise.

"Yeah, Em?"

"Is the light too bright for you?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You've been looking at me for a bit. I can turn down the light if you'll be able to sleep better."

Emma watches him shake his head, and she nods with a classic smile. Now, she finds it a bit awkward to keep rubbing on the pained areas of his torso over and over again. She also finds the pain in her stomach growing.

Troy notices it, too.

"Emma?"

"Yeah?"

"Lay down next to me," he whispers. He takes a hand and places it over hers, pulling on it until she's laying on her back next to him. Neither of them can turn their bodies because of the pain, but Troy doesn't care. He looks over at her, smelling her long hair and looking at the eyelashes dancing on her closed eyes. He reaches over slowly to take her hand, and she's the one to entangle their fingers together.

"I'm glad you're here with me," she says, eyes still closed but her face now leaning on his shoulder, her mouth and nose on his bare skin. She opens her eyes, her long eyelashes tickling his neck.

"Emma?"

"Yeah," she whispers, sleepy. He immediately kisses her hair.

"Stay with me."

She laughs silently, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

She can feel his pointer finger drawing hearts on the back of her palm.


	7. lust

**Scenario** : Being a power ranger is nothing compared to fighting against the government in a dystopian society.

 **More mature themes. Not explicit, just suggestive. The story trails off from generic descriptions to one scene somewhere in the middle, so don't worry if you can tell some questions are unanswered.**

* * *

Fighting is all Troy Burrows knows, and he knows it well.

From the young age of seven, he's been exposed to the training secrets that bring glory to the underground gang's name. This gang calls itself "the Wolves". But that very name is rarely uttered unless necessary because the more people know about it, the more danger it is in. Danger, a mysterious concept in the war against a government that imposes it on its people.

Troy's read his fair share of dystopian novels. _Divergent_ and the _Hunger Games_ just weren't cutting it, so he moves onto more realistic novels.

One would say they are less dystopian and more gang-related, but that's what he's a part of in some sorts. He enjoy being in the gang. He enjoys being the Gamma, working his way up to becoming the Alpha. The gang ranks each member like wolves do in a pack, where Troy's father, Jason, is the Alpha, and Noah Carver is the Beta.

If he's being honest, Troy hates the standing Beta.

He has his reasons, like the numerous pranks he faces from Noah yet endures silently because of their respective title differences. But Troy hates the thought of a day where he will watch his own father rank Noah as the new Alpha. Nepotism isn't such a hot concept in the gang world, even if the classic trilogy gang movies beg to differ.

Troy likes to run numbers and figures through his head, and one thing he always runs back to is the gender composition difference. There actually isn't much of one, but women and men tend to stay apart. The only exception being the Alpha female. His mother.

He loves his mother, he can't lie. But she's never around to watch him grow up, and he envies the little boys and girls with their own mothers. It's a cliche scenario for a bad boy to be in, but he can't complain when his and his father's title bring him luxury.

* * *

There's a standing Beta female.

Emma Goodall.

Theoretically, she's a higher ranking than Troy, but she doesn't rub her title in others' faces. They rarely train together, and it baffles him how she can be younger than him and still have a higher ranking. Their age difference is only a year, but the gap between their statuses is far from discreet.

There's a training room that takes up a whole side of a large auditorium, where two spotters will sit behind a glass wall and watch for any injuries throughout training. The other side matches a dance studio, with mirrors lining up the side. But the rest of the room is empty, and only a few training instruments lay scattered on the floor.

Troy watches the way she fights against Noah when he spots for them. He'll watch the way her mind runs wild in all directions as she turns to guard all sides, and he'll notice the fumbling of her fingers on weapons if the opponent gets too close.

She's really not that interesting of a character to him, but he spots more for her than for Noah. Maybe it's the tied-in hatred that partially accounts for this, but he can't blame himself for feeling such a way.

* * *

Troy's nights are long and lonely. He has a room that looks like a hotel room, with a balcony that leads to a view of the ocean. It's serene but alarming, as thought the crashing waves at high tide are ready to swallow him whole without a second thought. He feels attracted to this feeling of being held, of being enveloped everywhere.

He goes back to the fumbling hands.

Stop it, Troy. She's not that interesting of a character. Intrusive thoughts.

He goes back inside to sleep.

* * *

Emma is in the room right next to his, and it's funny how this one was open when she first looked for a place to stay. Noah is down the hall on the other side, so once in a while, she'll knock on Troy's door when she needs help opening something tightly-closed or needs some company. Usually the latter.

She may be a bit boring, but that's only because they don't talk much. His fear of the tides extends to her, for high tide on some days is enough to leave a loud blaring in her ears. She needs company to soothe it. Not that Noah isn't adequate. Troy is more... of her style.

She'll draw herself to his bookshelf, sifting through each cover. He reads dystopian novels, she notes. Scratch that. Gang novels. Sometimes, the shelves are too high up for her to reach. She'll ask for his help, and though he sighs from his side of the bed, he'll get up and extend his arm easily, bringing down the book to her level.

"Thank you," she'll smile, the fumbling fingers reaching for the hard material of the cover.

He grunts, noting the fingers again. Stop, Troy. She just has five fumbling fingers. That's all.

He suddenly imagines images of those fingers on his skin, pressing down with their warmth. He wants them all over his body like the tides he fears. He wants himself to just take her from her sitting position on the other side of the bed and turn her so she's underneath him, and he'll touch every bit of her skin with his. He feels lust grow for some reason, yet he wants the best intentions for her in every aspect of his imagination. He wants her to feel the best she's ever felt in her life. He wants to do that to her-

 _Enough!_ he thinks. He turns to see her gentle fingers turning a page and sighing.

Beta female, he thinks. He wants to show her what a Gamma really can do.

* * *

She glances over to see him turned to look at her for a quick second. She smiles and puts the book down, laying down and facing him.

"You have a good book collection," she muses, watching him as he slowly turns all the way around to face her.

"Thanks," he lets out, a bit annoyed that his intrusive thoughts of pent up sexual frustration have to suddenly be shoved away.

"Troy," she whispers, a little closer to him now at the sound of a crashing tide. The futuristic bedside lamp behind her goes out after sensing quiet.

Her fingers reach for the covers, pulling them over her tinier frame.

"There's nothing wrong with what you're thinking," she suddenly says, and his eyes burst open in fear.

"What are you talking about?" he shakily says, trying to conceal his desire. She looks so tiny and easy to cuddle. He wants her in his arms. He wants to be in her arms.

"All of that," she sighed. "I can read your thoughts."

Troy sits up, his bedside lamp snapping on.

"Emma," he breathes, watching her slowly sit up.

"Don't worry," she says. "I'm not going to ridicule or scold you for any of it. It's a new development, though. Different from your usual thoughts about wanting to beat Noah."

He feels angry.

"I don't blame you," she says with a dry chuckle. "He's a pain in the ass to be around, and if it were up to me, you would be my Beta Male any day."

Anger takes over, and he turns over so that she's underneath him. He lightly holds her wrists, still making sure she's not in pain in any way.

"You can read my thoughts," he grunts, though his awkward position with their arms above their heads causes him to say this in her ear. She feels something.

She turns her head's angle a bit just so she can nuzzle his neck with her nose, noticing how he quietly starts to pant.

Emma closes her eyes, feeling his hands drag their way down her arms and to her torso. He doesn't lift them up from her frame, and her hands move to behind her pillow. He looks directly into her eyes to make sure she's paying attention.

"I need you," he says. "Please."

"Troy, it's too soon. You know we can't do this," she sighs.

But she pulls him down for a long kiss, and he drags his hands back up her arms. Her hands reach up to his hair, entangling themselves in it and massaging his tense scalp. He likes it and has to take a break from the kiss just to focus on the way her fingers move.

The fingers.

They don't fumble at all.

They trace deep circles in his hair and undo the pain he constantly feels from training.

He holds her, making sure she's invisible to anyone standing away from the bed, and he suffocates her neck with long kisses and panting.

He's showing her what a Gamma can do. And though he enjoys dystopian novels, they never prepared him to feel like this.


	8. anxiousness

**I truly believe this has become my favorite "novel" of all that I have written. I hope I've also put in enough dedication to each chapter to reflect that, and note as always that I _love_ taking requests for future chapter prompts. Thank you so much to the anon(s - not sure if there is more than one of you because you all used the same name!) for your amazingly supportive comments in the last two chapters. Makes my whole day and reminds me of why I write in the first place. To make myself and others happy.**

* * *

 **Scenario:** Where the clock on the wrist of your hand tells you how long you have before your heart stops.  
I am a _sucker_ for this scenario and _always_ jump at the opportunity to read any story with this prompt.

* * *

She never figured out how they got the clock in her wrist in the first place.

All Emma knew was that it ticked down each second, the lack of a ticking noise being filled in by the one she placed in her head by herself.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

It wasn't anything too fancy, just lit up numbers separated by colons, where the numbers went years: months: days: hours: minutes: seconds.

 **00:00:29:16:35:18**

The 18 became a 17, the 17 became a 16... she could go on forever. But she couldn't. She only had 29 days left until she met the one. She was a pretty average 21 year old, her heart set on figuring out the person the clock on her wrist would lead to. She couldn't picture anyone in her mind who fit the picture, and goodness had she tried so hard to see if anyone she knew had the same number as her on their wrist.

Emma suddenly could see the flaw in that logic. She would have already met that person if she found the one. Neither of their clocks would still be counting down. Either way, though, the logic didn't matter because one thing was for certain.

She had never met the person she'd love.

* * *

 **00:00:18:07:00:47**

Emma stared at the clock tick down even more as she ate some cereal. Her heart began to race, and she felt herself begin to worry about who her significant other would be. Would he be the boy of her dreams? Would he care about this as much as she did?

She thought she was pretty enough and smart enough to be an appealing person, but she didn't know if she'd be paired up with a slob. A jerk. Someone who was rude. She had to admit how the past few weeks had made her shape the ideal significant other in her mind.

She wanted a talented guy who was at least averagely-handsome. She wanted some compassionate, someone guided in life.

Goodness, she was freaking out.

Emma got up from the table and pushed in the chair, stretching using the edge of the table itself to try and relax. It didn't work.

* * *

 **00:00:07:21:11:39**

She couldn't sleep, no matter how hard she tried.

It seemed that the more she tried to make herself not care, the more she fell in love with whomever her person would be. Okay, maybe not falling in love. But she felt this flutter in her heart every time she imagined the other person. She had carved a picture of him into her mind so specific that she didn't know how she'd react to seeing him in person.

Was she excited? Emma thought so, but it was starting to take a toll on her health. She needed to sleep, needed to eat, needed to focus on her actual life. She wanted to somehow send him a message, ask him if he was real.

Was there actually someone waiting on the other side?

* * *

 **00:00:01:02:28:55**

Just one more day. She was nervous. That was for sure.

The excitement she'd felt days earlier had quickly dissipated into pure dread of all the horrific scenarios she could imagine looping through her head. Her best friend Gia had agreed to meet up with her so they could search for him together when it came time, but even that couldn't stop the chills she was feeling. Emma sighed, leaning against the cushions of her sofa. She fumbled with her wrist, rubbing a finger against the clock. The numbers reflected light against her skin.

She suddenly wanted to rip the numbers out of her skin. A voice in her head screamed profusely at her to scratch them off. But she didn't move. She instead got up to stretch again.

Oh, how badly she wanted to meet this stranger.

* * *

 **00:00:00:00:02:00**

Gia and Emma couldn't find one person who looked like he was waiting for his significant other. Guys strutted around in jean jackets, and girls smoked cigarettes, eyeing the two closely. Emma felt a bit worried at where they currently were, but she kept a close look at her timer to make sure it was still running. She didn't want to be matched with a druggie.

 **00:00:00:00:01:00**

Why were they even in this part of town? Emma sighed in relief as soon as they'd escaped, but the sun was well set behind the horizon.

"Emma, let's get out of here," Gia said.

Emma knew that if her best friend was nervous, there was definitely something up. Emma looked to Gia's timer. She still had a year to go before she'd meet her person. And as soon as Gia screamed in fear, Emma knew that she wouldn't live to see who she'd love.

She turned around to punch the attacker before coming face-to-face with a boy who didn't wear a leather jacket. He was sweating terribly, wearing a track jacket and basketball shorts.

"Emma, please. Let's go!" Gia cried.

Emma's wrist beeped. Gia stopped pleading and yanked Emma's wrist up for everyone to see.

 **00:00:00:00:00:00**

Emma watched as the numbers disappeared from her wrist quietly. The boy's wrist had also beeped at the same time.

"Emma," the boy tested the name on his tongue quietly. "Emma."

"Emma, I'm going to go," Gia smiled knowingly, kissing her cheek and turning to the boy. "Keep her safe. You _know_ what happens when you do something to your chosen one."

Emma couldn't move. She kept staring at his face, at the way he panted quietly from jogging and the beads of sweat trickled down. The shadows dancing on his face brought out the chisel in his well-shaved jaw, but his eyes were too dark for her to tell their color. Either blue or green.

"What's your name?" she whispered.

He felt the same shock she was experiencing and had to take a second to recoup. He cleared his throat and snapped out of his daze.

"Troy," he said.

She let free a gentle smile.

"Hi."

His hands immediately cupped her cheeks, and he closed his eyes as he kissed her forehead. Emma couldn't help but wrap her own arms around his neck, letting his mouth trail breathy kisses down her face until it was centimeters from her own. They didn't kiss, though. They couldn't just yet. She could hear his breathing. She could tell how he wanted so badly to kiss her but knew it was too soon. She knew the hunger she felt on her own. And she completely disregarded the sweat he was covered in.

He swayed her quietly as they stayed holding each other in their arms. His head rested on her shoulder, his thoughts clouded with a sudden burst of love.

"You're really handsome," Emma broke the silence.

Troy lifted his head up to look at her, breaking out into a boyish grin that turned Emma's heart into putty.

"Were you worried that I wasn't going to be?" he asked, a playful yet quiet tone in his voice.

"Not really. I knew that you'd be perfect for me, whether you were handsome or not," she replied honestly, looking down at her wrist.

"Emma," he whispered like before, playing with the name. "Emma, Emma, Emma."

He looked down at her, noting the slight red hue in her cheeks.

"I love that name. Emma."

Her hands couldn't stop themselves from traveling slowly all over his face, and she brushed her thumb over his bottom lip.

"Let's go to my house," he said, quickly adding, "Unless you'd like to go to your house. That's totally fine, too."

"No, no, it's fine," Emma smiled reassuringly. "We can go to your house."

He took her hand in his, walking her up the sidewalk and away from the dangerous part of town.

* * *

"How have we never met before?" she asked. "How old are you?"

"22," he said. " _Please_ don't tell me you're 16 or something."

Emma chuckled, shaking her head.

"Thankfully, no. 21, actually."

He sighed of relief, fishing for his house key in his pocket and unlocking the door.

"I have a dog. Is that okay?" he asked. "I don't know if you're allergic or don't like dogs or something else."

"Troy, I love dogs. I've always wanted one."

"Well, now you have one," he smiled. "His name's Cooper. He'll love you."

She had to take in how large his house looked compared to hers. She lived in a larger apartment than most people's, but his house was... a full-on house. It looked to be three stories, actually. She felt intimidated, and the barking from inside was adding onto the fear.

But the inside was cozy and welcoming, the rugs feeling soft and the couches comfortable. Everything was in its right place, just as her house was situated. Cooper ran up to her and wagged his tail rapidly, and she reached out the palm of her hand for him to sniff and get used to. He took a second of hesitation before turning around to let her pet him, and she laughed.

"See? I told you he's a lover."

Emma looked up to Troy and looked back at Cooper. This would be her new family. She stood up after brushing Cooper's back for a few minutes and stared at Troy. He just stared back with a curious look in his eye, but she couldn't stop herself when he bit his lip to see if she'd watch. He grinned wider at her obvious desire and broke their tense atmosphere that Cooper had begun to notice.

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked. "I just went to the store this morning. Figured I'd need to get more food than usual for tonight."

The two of them settled on something quick to eat before sitting on the couch. Emma gracefully took off her thin jacket and relaxed as much as she could.

"Were you nervous, too?" she asked.

"I didn't know how to feel, honestly. Maybe nervous at times," he replied, taking a sip of water. "But I didn't feel overwhelmed. What about you?"

"Very nervous. I guess I was overthinking it, but I'd imagined all the different ways you wouldn't be right at all. That doesn't even sound correct, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? Don't. It's a nerve-wracking thing."

Emma's eyes felt droopy. She could occasionally feel her head swirl. She needed sleep, and the sudden drain of anxiousness from her system exposed how tired she actually was.

"Well, do you think I'm right for you?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

"You said you were thinking of all the ways I wouldn't be right for you. How bad did I do?"

It was definitely the lack of sleep that encouraged her to do what she did. Emma sat up on the couch and inched toward him until he was underneath her, and she leaned down to kiss him. He was reluctant at first because of how soon they'd met, but he then kissed back with more fervor, and his arms wrapped all over her back.

He tasted like chocolate, she thought to herself.

And while they kissed, she felt herself drift off into sleep. He was kissing her to sleep.

"I think I'm going to love you," she murmured. "I'm going to love you a lot. Love you. A lot."

"And I'll love you just as much, okay?" he said quietly.

She fell asleep on his chest as he himself fell asleep, his right hand rested on her back and his left hand holding hers over his heart.


	9. sickness

**The original prompt I tried going with wasn't really cooperating with me, couldn't see it getting anywhere good. Let's just say it's set at a Moran wedding.**

 **In response to Anon's question about prompts - they can literally be anything that I can somehow turn into a cute one-shot. Go for whatever your heart desires, but know that I'll only lightly grace mature themes, not delve into them.**

* * *

 **Scenario** : Power Rangers missions have never been so... romantic.

 **Slightly mature themes. Nothing way too extreme, but definitely more than usual.**

* * *

"You're kidding," Noah chuckles, looking around giddily at the other rangers to see if they have the same reactions.

"Do I look like the type to kid?" Gosei asks, clearly set off by his comment.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just that I wouldn't expect us... _Rangers_... to be playing house."

Gia snickers, nodding in his direction in agreement without looking up from the brochure they all received.

"Harwood Heights, so it's called," Gia reads aloud. "'The perfect neighborhood for the perfect family,' so they say."

"Rangers, enough fooling around. Your current behavior has already reflected to me that my decisions on your undercover roles are to be set in stone. Now please stay quiet to hear what I'm about to say."

"You've already decided our 'roles'?" Troy asks to himself, not realizing he's spoken out loud until he catches everyone else's looks in his direction. "Sorry."

He then lifts an eyebrow when he sees Tensou roll over to him with a small bag, the contents inside revealed only seconds later by Gosei.

"Inside that bag are two wedding bands, and I'm sure you all know this means two of you will be playing a married couple-"

"Finally! Gia and I can be the dream couple you all wish you could be part of!" Jake hollers, grabbing Orion in a chokehold until Orion yanks Holling's arm away.

"Wrong, Mr. Holling. I have designated the roles of the couple to Troy and Emma because of their exceptional nurturing skills these past few months. They will be able to portray the most accurate picture of a couple truly in love."

"Gosei, since when did you start playing matchmaker?" Noah laughs loudly, slapping Troy on the back playfully. "Burrows is getting married so soon?"

"Noah, for someone with exceptional book smarts, I'd expected you to read up more about people skills. Lay off," Gia groans, walking over to Emma. "I'd figured you'd have an actual wedding reception when you get married, but I guess I can always be the maid of honor in a different life."

"What's this about, Gosei?" Emma asks quietly, frustration marring her face as she looks at the ground beneath where he stays.

"There seems to be a bit of neighborhood resentment within the community... to the point of multiple murders. I have heard from sources that one of the neighbors is actually a monster that can shape-shift into a human being, though I need an inside eye - or pair of eyes, at that - to confirm. Can you do the job, Emma?"

Everyone seems to look to her for confirmation on whether this mission is worth it or not. She takes a second to look around at the others' faces and then at the brochure in her hands, nodding her head.

"Let's get this done."

* * *

The sky is too blue to be serene to Emma. There seem to be no clouds. Just blue beyond what her eyes can possibly see.

"What's wrong, Em?" Troy asks, turning down the radio in the car he's driving.

"I'm just feeling a little sick, that's all. Don't worry about it."

"Okay, but first sign of actual illness, and I'm taking you home. No excuses."

"All right, _honey_ ," she emphasizes their mission, smirking.

He shakes his head and smiles fully, pulling up to the gates of their new neighborhood.

* * *

"Home sweet home," Troy stops the car in front of their new house, a mansion-like structure that only seems to shine along with the grass of the vast front yard. "And there come the neighbors."

Emma closes her car door and walks over to Troy, noticing how he plays off their new partnership with an arm around her waist that pulls her close. She doesn't feel well, like something is dragging her down. Emma can't help but rest her head on his side to help retain her balance, making it seem like it's just her way of expressing endearment.

"Welcome, neighbors! We are so thrilled to have you join us!" the older lady grins widely, looking at Emma with large, blue eyes. "My, my! Are you two newlyweds?"

"Yes, we are!" Emma smiles, and the lady takes Emma's left hand to inspect the ring.

Troy instinctively pulls Emma closer.

"Absolutely stunning- I'm so sorry, oh my goodness," she realizes her sudden intruding behavior and takes a step back. "I'm Shiela, by the way, and this is my husband, Todd!"

The middle-aged man nods with a similar grin to his wife's.

"We're so happy to have you here and hope you can join us for dinner if that's not a problem!" Shiela says with hope.

Emma looks up to Troy to see if he's up for it, and he does the same.

"Sounds perfect," he flashes his teeth in a smile that seems to send Shiela's heart flying.

"Jenna, is it?" Shiela asks, to which Emma raises her eyebrows with attention.

That's right. They have code names.

"You are one extremely lucky girl to have both beauty and a gorgeous husband. Remember that."

Todd sighs lightly as he holds Shiela's arm and walks her back, and Emma sighs, taking Troy's hand still resting on her waist and entangling their fingers. Troy then leans down to look like he's planting a kiss in her hair.

"Emma, are you sure you're okay?" Troy asks quietly, and she hums.

"Don't worry, honey. Let's just go inside and see how well we can unpack boxes, okay?" she stays in character.

* * *

"Troy?" Emma asks worriedly, looking around for him until he pops up from around the corner.

"What's wrong?" he searches her face for answers, suddenly placing his hands on her waist.

She searches around for a place to sit, settling on one of the boxes they still haven't opened. He kneels in front of her, waiting impatiently for what bad news she could be getting ready to say.

"I-I'm getting this really bad feeling, I don't know. Do you ever feel like something is wrong and suddenly feel sick?"

"Let's not go to dinner tonight, Em. I can order pizza for us, and to be honest, Shiela seems pretty..."

"Invasive?" Emma lets out a small laugh that puts Troy at ease. "I figured that as soon as she mentioned our looks."

"Seriously? I had to draw the line when she grabbed your hand to look at this," he takes her hand to fiddle with the ring.

Emma laughs some more, a bit more naturally this time. She stands up, noticing someone standing outside the window.

" _Honey_..." Emma looks to Troy, hoping he catches on when he sees her face.

Troy glances over to see the silhouette of a man in the bushes, and he can't help but lean down to capture Emma in a kiss that shields both of their faces. She knows that this is the only way out of their... predicament and kisses back gently, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around his neck. But she feels something in the kiss that confirms the suspicions she'd had about herself the past few months, specifically regarding her feelings for a counterpart of hers. Nevertheless, the kiss Troy is finding himself drawn to more and more each second is fueled by the passion he's wanted to unleash for as long as he can remember concerning Emma. In a way, he can't help but be happy that this is the only solution he can think of.

They break off gently at the same time, both panting ever so quietly enough for the other to still hear and be attracted by. Emma reaches up to kiss his forehead and brushes his hair, slowly turning to the windows to check if the figure is still there.

He's gone.

* * *

Five weeks of sneaking around pass as quickly as Emma can count the days, and it seems there's a development in their fake relationship that goes from Troy sleeping on the couch to them sharing a bed. But this was to be expected, for the figure returns every few days just to check up on them.

Emma stops feeling sick after a while and slowly regains her full health, all thanks to hours upon hours of rest in bed and Troy sitting on his side of the bed, just reading update messages from the rest of the team. All in all, if she could describe the undercover operation in a picture, it would be her laying down, surrounded by pillows and covers with Troy sitting a few inches away, just reading off his phone.

Emma suddenly gets up from her resting position, her hair disheveled as she takes off the covers she's huddled herself within. Troy reaches over to fix her cami strap that's fallen just enough to show more than a friend would normally see of her body. But nothing too much that they would be forever repulsed by the thought of each other.

"Did you hear something?" Emma asks him, and he shakes his head as she scoots over to see what he's looking at.

Pictures of small animals. The fearless leader - and her husband - is looking at pictures of puppies, kittens, and ducklings, among other animals.

"Reconsidering being my wife?" he jokes, and she shakes her head furiously.

"This can only strengthen my claim tenfold," she proclaims grandly, taking in his own disheveled hair and his missing shirt as she turns to look at him.

They've become so comfortable with each other and with their surroundings that she can't help but wonder what life outside the community will be like when they figure out who the culprit is. But until then, they wait patiently to see who the figure outside their window is. He'll come eventually. She knows it.

* * *

Emma feels sick yet again. And this time, the pain in her stomach is nearly unbearable. But she stays quiet about it.

"I'm going to go out and investigate who he is tonight, that guy in the backyard-" Troy tells her as he comes out of the bathroom from a shower. "Holy, you look sick, Emma!"

"I'm fine, really," she pleads. "It's okay."

"Emma, you're way too pale for this to be normal. I'm going to call an ambulance-"

"No! No, please don't. I just _know_ this has to do with whatever's going on in the neighborhood."

"But why do you feel sick, Em?" Troy asks, rearranging her pillow so she can relax.

"I don't know... maybe I have a sixth sense for murderers?" she tries to joke, but Troy stays serious. "Plus, remember how we kissed?"

"How could I forget?" Troy says half-heartedly, not realizing what he said until it catches up with him.

"I was sick that day, but you didn't get sick from kissing me. Which means it's not a simple cold. I _know_ this has to do with our case."

Troy nods, beads of water from his shower trickling down his face not bugging him in the slightest. He looks intently at her, and she takes the small towel he placed earlier on the bed, bringing his head down until he's laying down next to her.

"I'll be fine. You know that," Emma said quietly.

She took the towel and wiped the water out of his face, then using it to dry his hair.

By the time his hair is dried thoroughly, the towel is long gone, and his head rests on her chest, arms wrapped around her completely, her hands massaging his hair.

"You have to go now," she whispers, not feeling like masking the sadness in her voice.

He feels so comfortable, so at home. He feels truly at peace just hearing her heart beat within her frame against his ear and having her in his arms, and Lord, it would take every single fiber of strength in his body to tear himself away from his wife. She knows that, too. She knows he's nestled himself too comfortably with her that he can't bring himself to leave.

"C'mon now, don't make me push you away," she coos, patting his large biceps encouragingly.

Troy finally stands up, running his hands through his hair and letting out a breathy sigh to calm his nerves. Emma brushes out the wrinkles on the loose nightshirt she wears over her undergarments, the only outfit that balances heat with chill. But having him with her has definitely made heat overpower her. He clears his throat and walks out, and Emma crashes into her pillow, trying to process what just happened.

* * *

The sickness returns, not as strongly, though. Emma hears something fall downstairs and gets up from the bed to check, taking her morpher with her in case. The pain grows quickly, overcoming Emma until she can't hear her own thoughts.

"T-Troy?" she attempts to blurt out, but she can't even focus on what she's saying.

She crashes onto the ground, trying to stand up again, but a shadowing figure at least seven feet tall towers over her.

And it's not the figure in the yard.

Suddenly, the pain is gone. She feels at bliss, only to regain full consciousness and see in front of her a monster with the similar plastic-y look to its skin and the etched smile of a deranged creature. It throws her onto the bed before she can grab her morpher, and the device falls out of her pocket, crashing a few feet away.

She screams as loudly as she can as the monster targets her shirt, ripping off the first few buttons.

"Stop!" she screams, kicking it harshly and attacking with the moves she's practiced over time. She puts up a brilliant fight of punches, blocking, more kicks, and screams before the sickness returns again, taking her over enough to make her fall on the bed in defeat.

Troy runs into the room as quickly as he can at the sound of her fighting, morphing immediately and finishing off what Emma was about to complete on her own. It doesn't even have the decency to transform into a second life, simply dissipating into thin air, but only after turning to Emma and sucking a strange green essence away from her.

* * *

With the sign of any threat gone for good, Troy races over to Emma, who's sprawled completely on the bed out of exhaustion more than anything else. Her shirt buttons are destroyed to the point of no return, and she sits up to recoup.

The missing buttons on her nightshirt show off even more skin than the fallen cami strap did, and Troy bears witness to the lacy bra she wears underneath. She doesn't realize the circumstances of her wardrobe situation until he reaches over to cover her chest, to which she looks down and groans in embarrassment. It does little to help when he closes her shirt, for it simply returns to opening up completely.

Emma doesn't care, though. She suddenly feels her sickness replaced with... lust? Imagination? She bites her lip and notices how he'd not been wearing a shirt the entire time, and he picks up on her social cues. But they both know that they can't take it too far. And they don't.

She rests herself on the pillow as she did before he left, and he places his head in the center of her chest so he can hear her heartbeat. With her shirt now unbuttoned, he can hear her heartbeat even clearer than before, and she feels almost aroused at the way he's entranced by the heart in between her breasts. His hands wrap themselves around her bare waist, her shirt completely disregarded in existence. It simply provides a blanket around his naked arms, and his own heartbeat sits above her lower belly.

Emma can't help but breathe to her chest, not her stomach, so she notices the patterns of her breasts rising and falling, not her belly. She finds it telling of the situation they've put themselves in, threading her fingers into his completely dry hair.

He sighs in content at the beating of her heart, not wanting anything more than to allow it to lullaby him to sleep.

* * *

"So who was the figure outside the window?" Emma asks as she packs the rest of their belongings into the boxes the next morning.

"Todd," Troy says. "He said he saw a third figure in the house and needed to inspect."

"Third figure?"

"Yeah, he said that the night we first moved in, there was a large monster-like shadow in the other room."

"That seems to match up with the times I fell ill. But Troy?"

"Yeah?" he walks over to where she's busy packing, and she stands up to stretch her back.

"Why didn't Todd tell us about this?"

"Because it would then apparently come for him next."

* * *

Ernie serves the gang their respective drinks, and Emma fiddles with the ring on her left ring finger, admiring the detail put into it. There had even been their initials carved into the inside of the band, and she smiles at this.

"I guess it's time to divorce, huh?" Gia turns to Emma. "Gee, Emma, I'd figured you'd at least have sex with your husband before you break it off with him, right? Or has that wish been granted already? Can I expect baby Emmas and Troys walking around anytime soon? Will they call me Auntie Gia-"

"Gia!" Emma yelps, smacking the girl playfully. "Nothing happened. I promise."

"You've already got that pregnancy glow! Burrows, you're going to be a father!" Gia keeps joking.

Troy rolls his eyes playfully, and Orion starts laughing at the idea of pregnancy, finding humans to be utter mysteries. Emma groans and smacks the girl upside the head again, shaking her head. The guys laugh as Gia is caught off-guard.

"No one is pregnant. No one is going to be an aunt."

"At least not now, Emma. But just wait until-"

"Do I have to slap you again, Gia?" Emma laughs, exasperated.

"You know, Em, it's not a far-off possibility to get married now itself," Noah says. "In fact, statistics are showing that now's the perfect time to get married. We're all done with high school and are almost done with college."

"Well, I've just had my first taste of marriage, and it's something I'll consider in the future," she says, fidgeting with the ring. "Until then, it's time to say goodbye to this little guy."

Troy and Emma both take off their rings and place them at the center of the table, and Jake begins to fake cry.

"You two have grown so much. I feel like a proud father," he wipes away imaginary tears. "But Emma, I need to be a grandfather soon. Before I pass away, you know?"

"What makes me so interested in all of this is that you look to Emma to have kids first," Troy butts in, drinking his green smoothie.

"Well, yeah!" Orion cries. "You're going to be the father either way, so might as well dive into this conversation while we can!"

Emma shakes her head and drinks her own smoothie, turning as someone taps her shoulder. The others all look up at the little girl who grabs Emma's attention.

"Are you Emma Goodall?"

"Yes?"

"You're the pink ranger then!" the girl grins and screams. "You're so cool! You fight all the monsters!"

Emma breaks out into a huge grin at the fact that the girl only acknowledges her amongst the other rangers sitting next to her.

"Where's your mommy, honey?" Emma asks.

"She's over there," the girl points to the woman who looks uncannily similar to Emma, "but she said I could talk to you. Is it okay if I get a hug?"

Gia turns to the boys with a knowing grin at the sight of the pink ranger hugging the little girl, and Troy sighs in defeat. He knows she'd make a brilliant mother, and he knows it's time to start making big life decisions. Emma returns from her small encounter, pretending that the girl's interruption was nothing.

"I told you, Em," Noah says. "You'd be an amazing mother."

Emma smiles and doesn't say anything, watching as Gia tries on the ring she just took off. It doesn't fit her properly.

Maybe - just _maybe_ \- it was made for her.

Troy looks at her intently from across the table, eyes focused on the heart pendant draped around her neck.


	10. shame

**Statistics from the past few months have shown me that the happiness these little one-shots bring hasn't wavered in the slightest. Thanks for that (as always).**

 **Scenario:** Love and magic are not mutually-exclusive.

 **Fair warning: mature language.**

 **This has a few holes in it because I wanted to quickly push out a piece you all would be able to read while I make some more of these one-shots. Enjoy, and review at your pleasure. Suggestions for future chapters are always appreciated.**

* * *

He'd never been into magic. In fact, when his mother first told him that he was a mage, Troy avoided her for days.

No, it wasn't like being told one was a mage was strange or anything. More so was it the fear associated with the mages that caused him to recoil into his invisible shell when he'd first been told the news.

It wasn't like a _Fantastic Beasts_ situation where magic had become a distraction or danger to society. Troy just personally had some... _assumptions_ of his own about mages. Like how they were all pompous. And irrationally brave (to the extent where they'd put their lives in harm's way to experience the thrills of life). And maybe even a bit naive to the harsh truths of reality.

But as a young kid, who was he to pin these labels on a group of people he was now become a part of? From where had he formulated these preconceived notions? It seemed that it would be time for him to destroy any semblance of animosity he had for magic because this one detail suddenly defined everything about him.

"I've signed you up for some training lessons every Wednesday afternoon. Does that sound okay?" Mrs. Burrows asked him.

The little nine-year-old nodded and tied the laces on his cleats before heading into the car. He had a soccer game that afternoon.

. . .

Troy was now twenty-four and driving straight for the unnecessarily tall office building he liked to call his first home. His actual house was his second home. The view of the tall skyscraper cut in half by the low-hanging stratus clouds was nothing short of picturesque, and though the immense traffic behind him was tense, Troy couldn't help but take a moment to admire the view.

He parked in his usual parking spot and rode the elevator up to the top floor. He wasn't in the highest position of the company, but he could say that he definitely had influence over the jobs of countless people. Okay, maybe hundreds. Not countless, but fun to think of as.

Work, as usual, was a bore. The largest drag of his life, but the money was great. Materialist, he could confidently affirm he was. The typical rich man who knew his power extended beyond what he could currently see.

Today, he wanted to switch things up before heading home. His extra work was already completed, and his assistant headed home from feeling sick, giving him the rest of the evening to do anything he pleased. He could head home and watch a slew of mafia movies, or he could head to a pristine restaurant with his best friend, Jake Holling.

But he decided to head to the park. He left his bags in the car and made sure his keys and wallet were in the car, finally crossing the street and somehow finding himself running until he had safely crossed the entrance of the tiny park.

But his running didn't stop! Oh no, he had a gusto in his lungs that he exerted upon his limbs like a wildfire preparing to spread through a forest of unsuspecting trees. He felt as if there was something symbolic about this moment in his life, this moment when he was running from what was tethering him to-

" _Ouch!_ " he heard a female yelp, and he himself was parked on the ground, too.

They must have collided when he was too busy thinking about his heroic moment, but she'd already extended her hand to pull him up. She wore a comfortable-looking outfit to him, reminding him of his uncomfortably well-fitted suit. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to duplicate her outfit with his magic.

And he did.

Troy didn't mean to, but as soon as he had thought that, the woman was standing in her underwear, with him wearing her outfit from a few seconds before. She screamed as loudly as vocal cords could possibly scream, and she raced off, leaving him in a camo print sweatshirt and gray sweatpants.

 _Fuck, these clothes are tight._

"Did I just see that?" another female said from in front of him.

Troy had to do a double-take when he first saw her. She was breathtaking. Almond-shaped eyes and a thin nose. Wavy, brown hair down to the small of her back. She wore a baby pink hoodie and a pair of black leggings that made her look somewhat fragile.

"Come here," he commanded. He was so deathly afraid that she would ridicule him endlessly for his outfit and what she had just bore witness to.

She walked over quickly, lightly jogging along the way.

"You have powers," she whispered, though there was no one around them for her to keep this a secret from. She had been the only other witness to the embarrassing scene.

"Yes, I do, but I need to make sure you never tell anybody. Give me your phone."

She shook her head, taking a step back.

"Do you realize what you're saying?"

He didn't respond, only sighing and rubbing his temples in annoyance. Almond Eyes smiled understandingly.

"You don't like your powers, hm?"

He didn't respond again, only keeping his fingers rubbing those temples of his. She gently grabbed his wrists so she could see his face.

"It might sound a little cliche, but you are amazing because of your powers... and more. Can I tell you something?"

"You're already talking, Almond Eyes." She raised an eyebrow playfully.

"Almond Eyes, I like that. Okay, give me your phone instead."

He gave her his black iPhone, and she created a new contact, being sure to name herself "Almond Eyes". She decided to take a quick picture of herself for the contact photo, and when returning the phone, she cleared her throat.

"I'm going to show you something. But promise me you won't tell anyone you saw this."

He nodded, and a tiny smile broke out on her face. She gently pulled him down to her height, and she placed the softest of kisses on the tip of his nose. For some reason, though, he found no meaning to push her away for doing something so intimate within minutes of meeting him. In fact, he wanted to somehow encourage her to keep kissing his nose.

But she pulled away quicker than he would have liked, and suddenly, intricately beautiful patterns of lines appeared on her face, making her look like a majestic princess.

"I know you see it," she said quietly. "You're the only one who can. No one else around here is able to see what you're looking at right now."

Had he been in any other situation, he would have snakily commented on how much of an innuendo that sounded like. But at that moment, he once again was taken out of his thoughts by her holding up her phone so the camera was facing him. On his own face, he saw the same patterns.

"Why can't normal people see these?"

"Nobody else but us can see these," she replied. "Do you want me to take them away?"

"No, no. Not right now. But what does that mean? Only _we_ can see these?"

Almond Eyes must have figured out that his magic training was somehow cut short.

"Do you maybe want to get dinner?" she asked.

Troy snapped up, glaring at her.

"What, is this all some elaborate way to get me to go out with you?"

Almond Eyes started to laugh, causing him to chuckle quietly (against his own liking). Her laughter was so contagious that he could imagine himself swimming in ocean of it. Drowning in it, even.

. . .

"My name's Emma, by the way. But I like Almond Eyes. You can keep calling me that."

The Chinese takeout she'd chosen to buy (though he'd insisted repeatedly he'd pay for) was the best he'd ever had, maybe because the Chinese food he'd eaten before came from the small shops a few roads down from his dorm when he was in college.

"Okay Almond Eyes, tell me why only we can see these."

Emma sat him down and took his hands in hers, making sure his full attention was on her.

"Troy, you didn't finish your training did you?"

He eyed their intertwined fingers suspiciously, looking back up and shaking his head.

"There's something that happens when you finish training, and that's when you get to meet an important person in your life."

"I don't follow."

"You... kinda meet... your... I can't word it in a way that won't freak you out. Promise me you won't freak out."

 _I won't._

"You meet your soulmate. It's some weird way they figure out your soulmate, but you do have one. Please tell me you're not freaked out."

"I think I know where this is going."

"Six years ago, I remember standing under that tree they said you really like. They said you'd show up there because that was the place you'd always train. You liked to go there every Saturday.

"So, I waited. Maybe a few hours? But I'd known after the first hour that you wouldn't be showing up. I mean, I'm not trying to be sappy or anything like that. I just... for some reason, I was drawn to this city a year ago. I should've known it was because you were here."

He removed his hands from hers, and she frowned, once again understanding what he was feeling.

"It's a bit much, I know. And you have _no_ reason to believe me besides the patterns on our faces. It's getting a little late, so I think I'm going to head home."

He didn't stop her, but as he saw her tiny figure disappear into the darkness, he noticed that she never told him they were soulmates.

. . .

Troy never remembered his dreams, but that night, he envisioned almond eyes. Just Almond Eyes. Just her.

He could feel himself holding her, somehow being able to feel her hair. Yes, it was just as soft as he'd figured it would be.

He suddenly jolted awake, sweat running down his entire body. He felt hot under the covers, and when he ripped them off his body, he couldn't help but stumble over the toilet to vomit.

He called his mom to tell her everything.

. . .

"Can we meet again?" he asked Emma later that day over the phone.

"Of course," she smoothly replied. "At the park maybe?"

"Sounds good."

She wore a gray overcoat on top of a black turtleneck and black flowing pants, and her almond eyes shone in the light still flowing from behind the cloudy skies.

"I'm sorry for not meeting you under the tree that day," he began.

"Why are you apologizing for that? You didn't know I would be there-"

"I have more to say. I'm also sorry for pulling away yesterday. You were just telling me something I should've known if I'd only finished training, and my mom told me exactly what you said. _She_ even knew who you were."

Emma looked away from him, staring at the trees above them sadly. Troy took hold of her wrists just as she'd done the day before, and he rolled up her right sleeve so her forearm showed.

He placed a slow trail of kisses from her palm to her wrist, then up her arm. He ended by taking her palm and holding it against the side of his face, closing his eyes as he marveled in the softness of her skin against his jaw. Opening his eyes, he saw the patterns on her face again.

"I thought those appear only when you kiss me on the nose?" he asked confusedly.

"It happens anytime we kiss each other anywhere," she grinned. "Though if we kiss in select places, the patterns look a little different."

He took her face and tilted it up so he could see her eyes. He smiled genuinely when seeing her smile, and he leaned down.

Troy felt chills just from kissing her, and the wanting he had yesterday from her kiss on the nose grew tenfold as she kissed back in that moment. Her arms linked around his neck, and he held her so close to his own body that he could feel her eyelashes brush against his skin.

"You didn't tell me something yesterday," he remembered.

She was panting as she placed her head in the crook of his neck. His arms had encircled her so much that she felt protected beyond description. She only murmured in response, completely at bliss.

"We're soulmates."

"I know," she said, her happiness apparent in her voice.

"You're my soulmate, Almond Eyes."


End file.
